


Cyrus' Dictionary

by you_get_to_exhale_now_cyrus



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming Out, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Kippen Siblings, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-08-30 03:17:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 67,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16756639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/you_get_to_exhale_now_cyrus/pseuds/you_get_to_exhale_now_cyrus
Summary: Cyrus has always been good with words; there’s a reason English is his favorite subject. But with TJ, he seems to be at a loss for words. When they get paired up for a summer assignment, Cyrus slowly starts to build a new dictionary. One that involves TJ and everything they do together. Along the way, maybe he’ll find the words to tell him how he feels.





	1. Agathokakological

**Author's Note:**

> agathokakological (adj.): composed of both good and evil

It was the final day of school, and lines of students filed in to Grant High School. Finals were taken, projects were on display, and most teachers had left for the summer, save for Principal Metcalf. All the students were gathered into the auditorium, where they’d be given their schedules for next year.

“I really hope I’m in American literature,” Andi remarked, swinging her empty backpack over her shoulders.

“You’re gonna fill that backpack with books if you take that class,” Amber piped up, “I took that class last year and I almost regretted it,”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ambs,” Andi sighed, poking her shoulder playfully as they continued down the hall, “any classes you’re looking forward to, Cy?”

Cyrus barely registered that someone had said his name. He was too busy praying under his breath that he would get put into journalism class. He’d been looking forward to it since freshman year, and now that he was a junior, it was finally an option.

“Penny for your thoughts, Underdog?” TJ came up beside him, effectively startling him out of this thoughts, “you look like Mr. Rehsif when he’s grading someone’s work,”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Cyrus rolled his eyes, exhaling through his nose, “I’m just hoping I get put in journalism,”

“That lame-ass class taught by Mrs. Lorac?” TJ scoffed, before biting his tongue, “I mean, uh, that class just isn’t my style,”

Cyrus scowled, rounding the corner with the herd of students, and filing into the auditorium. “What are you talking about? You’re a great writer, I’ve seen some of your work,” he gushed, rushing to take his seat in the very front.

TJ shook his head, as if trying to get rid of the inevitable blush forming in his cheeks. He made his way back to a free seat behind Cyrus, mumbling the occasional ‘excuse me’ to crawl over people’s legs.

“Good morning everyone,” Principal Metcalf spoke into the microphone, garnering the attention of the students as well as a disinterested ‘morning’ groan, “let’s try that again, good morning everyone,”

“Morning,” the students repeated with fake enthusiasm. TJ tapped Cyrus on the shoulder, rolling his eyes when he met his gaze.

“Oh hush, you,” Cyrus whispered, sticking his tongue out and turning his attention to their principal.

“Welcome everyone, it’s great to see you all here. I’m going to keep this brief,” he started, a few of the students snickering at that, “we have your schedules for next year. They’re in alphabetical order, so please take the top one and pass the pile on. Now, when you get the paper, please make sure to--”

The microphone squealed, causing most of the student body to cover their ears, while Principal Metcalf called over someone to help him figure out how to rework it. Papers rustled in the air, and coupled with either groans of frustration or cheers of happiness, it was a bit chaotic.

“Yes!” Cyrus exclaimed, turning to TJ with an expression of unimaginable joy, “I’m in journalism!”

At that, TJ perked up. He’d been placed in journalism too, but at least he knew that Cyrus would be suffering, err, taking that class too. “Me too,” he replied, trying his best to shout over the cacophony of voices in the auditorium.

“I can’t believe I got put in environmental studies,” Amber huffed, looking at her paper with a frown, “but at least I’m in journalism with you dorks,” she commented, glancing at TJ with a knowing look.

“Andi are you in environmental studies?” TJ asked with a smirk, his gaze never once leaving Amber’s face. Her face morphed into one of frustration, and TJ broke the gaze, crossing his legs with a confident smile.

“Um. . .yeah, I do! Hey, we’re going to be in the same class,” Andi called to Amber from a few seats down, waving her paper enthusiastically.

“Okay, students, please be quiet for a moment so we can dismiss you for the tours,” their principal yelled, the microphone abandoned. He gave a few whistles, and eventually the student body calmed down.

“You will all be spending about ten minutes in each class, collecting your summer materials and assignments. Once you have everything, you are free to go. Have a safe summer!” Like dogs to a feeding bell, kids stampeded out of the doors, each rushing to their first classes.

“What class do you have first, TJ?” Cyrus asked, peering over at the other boy’s schedule, “Oh, physics. What a fun way to start off your mornings,” the shorter boy joked.

TJ sighed, folding his schedule in half and putting it in his back pocket. “Junior year is gonna start with a bang,” he muttered, “I’ll see you last period though. Journalism, right?”

Cyrus nodded, giving him a small wave before turning the corner. This year was going to be fun, right? Starting his morning off calculus, with French second to last, and then having journalism last period? Oh, this was going to be fun.

* * *

 

TJ left Algebra with a packet in hand and a frown on his face. There was absolutely no  _ way _ that he was going to be able to finish this by the end of the summer. Heck, he probably couldn’t finish it by the end of the year. Clutching the papers tightly, he rounded the corner and made his way down to room 143. There were a few familiar faces in there, like Jonah, Andi, and even Walker, who transferred to their school last year. He took a seat at one of the tables without someone next to him, keeping an eye on the door to keep an eye out for Cyrus.

“Alright, everyone, please pay attention,” Mrs. Lorac began, walking over and shutting the door with a gentle click, “welcome to journalism class, I hope you’re all excited for this course. . .”

TJ stopped paying attention to her introduction, instead opting for pulling out his schedule from his back pocket and smoothing it out on the table. Had Cyrus tried to drop the class? No, he couldn’t have; he’d already said that it was his favorite, he  _ wouldn’t _ have dropped it. Maybe there was another class meeting during this time, or maybe-

“Sorry I’m late!” Cyrus burst through the door, his folder of papers spilling all over the floor, “I got lost on my was here and then I tried to ask for help but I couldn’t find anyone and-”

“Just take a seat, Cyrus,” Mrs. Lorac sighed, exasperated, “there’s a free seat by TJ, you can sit there. We were just talking about you summer assignment. I’m sure Mr. Kippen can fill you in,”

Cyrus nodded meekly, shuffling awkwardly to the seat by TJ and dumping all of his papers on the table. “What’s the assignment?” he whispered, neatly sorting through all his French papers and sliding them pack in his folder.

TJ shrugged, drumming his fingers on the table nonchalantly. “Something about a journal, I think,” he mumbled, earning a playful shove from Cyrus.

“You weren’t paying attention?” he whisper-yelled, his eyes looking like they were going to bulge out of his head, “how are we going to know what to d-”

“Cyrus, TJ, please pay attention,” Mrs Laroc scolded, reaching for a small stack of papers from her desk, “if you’ve forgotten what to do,” she started, glancing at Cyrus and TJ with a scowl, “this will help you remember. Make sure you follow the directions,”

Cyrus felt his cheeks burning with embarrassment when he took the paper, reading it over and over to make sure he knew exactly what to do. It read:

_ Keep a journal over the summer, writing about the events of each day. You don’t need to do it daily, but please do it for at least a week. If you can include pictures, great, if not, that’s fine. You will be working in partners, to make sure that you both actually do the assignment. You will have separate journals. Make sure to note the date for each entry. _

“Mr. Goodman, I assume you and Mr. Kippen will be working together?” Mrs. Lorac eyed them, lowering her glasses on the bridge of her nose.

Cyrus could feel the eyes of each of his classmates on him, and he ducked his head to try and hide from all the stares. TJ, being the apparent ever-confident jock, slung an arm around him and pulled him slightly closer.

“Yup,” he announced, popping the ‘p’, and flashing his signature grin at Mrs. Lorac, “we’re gonna be the best pair, Mrs. L,”

The teacher blinked once. Twice. Shaking her head, she slid through a row of students to help someone who raised their hand.

“You actually think we’re going to be the best pair?” Cyrus asked, glancing over the paper a few more times, and writing his name on the top. TJ noted that Cyrus’ handwriting was very pretty, and much neater than his own. Mrs. Lorac was going to have a fun time trying to read his journal.

“Of course I do, Underdog,” TJ promised, slipping his arm from Cyrus’ shoulders after deciding that he kept it there a bit too long, “we can even get together after this is over and plan out a few things,”

Cyrus nodded, folding his paper in neat squares and slipping it into one of his folders that he’d accumulated during the day. “Outside by the picnic tables near the oak tree?” he suggested, and TJ smiled in agreement.

“You’re all dismissed. Have a wonderful summer! And make sure you grab a journal on the way out!” she called out as the students filed out.

“So,” TJ pulled up beside Cyrus, “what do you have planned for these activities? Going to parties? Dirtbiking? Stealing candy?”

Cyrus scoffed, pushing open the door to the outside and waiting for TJ to follow. “After the events of middle school? No thank you,” he insisted, taking a seat at the picnic bench and putting his notebook on the table.

“Okay,” TJ hummed, drumming his fingers, “how about then. . .”

“Hey guys!” Jonah yelled from across the yard, running towards them with a paper in hand, “hey so,” he spat out, taking a second to catch his breath, “. . .so there’s an art show tomorrow and Walker’s art is gonna be in it and,” he paused, for another breath, “I was hoping you guys could come. It’d be important for him,”

TJ and Cyrus exchanged looks, peering at the paper that Jonah gave them. “What a supportive boyfriend you are,” TJ joked, watching Jonah heat up like a flame.

“Wh-uhm, we’re, uh, we’re not. . .” Jonah fumbled, getting more flustered by the moment.

“Not yet, at least,” TJ commented, which only made Jonah turn redder, “what do you say Cyrus? First journal of the summer?”

Cyrus pretended to think it over before breaking out into a smile and nodding. “Totally! We’ll be there,”

“Cool,” Jonah mumbled, pivoting on his heel and walking away with a shake of his head.

“He’s totally smitten for Walker,” TJ noted, watching him leave.

“Wow, you can go from tough guy to softie real quick, huh,” Cyrus joked, “from ‘let’s steal things’ to ‘Jonah’s in love with Walker’,” he mocked playfully.

TJ rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he muttered, “so art show tomorrow? I’ll see you there,”

“See ya,” Cyrus waved, lingering for a moment on TJ as he walked before he turned back to his journal. He turned to the last page of the journal and wrote ‘WORDS’ at the top. There was a certain word to describe TJ, and it was on the tip of his tongue, but for the life of him, he couldn’t think of it. So, he pulled out his phone and started typing.

_ someone that is both good and bad _

After a few seconds he found the word that he’d been thinking of. He  _ knew _ that word, why hadn’t he thought of it on his own. On the first line of that last page in his journal, he wrote ‘agathokakological’. He chuckled, thinking of what TJ would say if he pulled that word out in a conversation. Smiling to himself, Cyrus scooped up his schoolwork and started his walk home.


	2. Duende

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> duende: the mysterious power of art to deeply move a person

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to Colorful by Jess Penner while writing this, since it really fits the mood! I'm working on a Spotify playlist I listen to while writing these chapters. I'll share it soon!

TJ woke up the next morning to the sound of Amber’s voice drifting into his room from down the hall. Given her volume and the sheer amount of giggling he heard, she was definitely talking to Andi. Those two were almost attached at the hip, and when they weren’t, they were connected by a headphone cord.

“Amber, talk to your girlfriend quieter,” TJ groaned, and the giggling immediately ceased. After a few seconds of silence, which he found quite enjoyable, angry footsteps made their way down the hall and into his room.

“You are going to pay for that,” Amber hissed, loops of her blonde hair sticking out from her bun, “you can’t just go calling her my girlfriend,” she muttered, grabbing a pillow and lightly hitting TJ with it.

“Wow, I feel wounded,” he joked, rubbing his eyes and sitting up on his bed, “are you coming to the art show today?”

Amber shrugged, taking a seat on the foot of her brother’s bed. “Maybe. I was going to talk to Andi about going, and then you interrupted me,”

TJ gave her a playful nudge with his foot. “Then what are you doing talking to me? Go talk to her! Text her! Whatever you have to do,” he insisted, shooing her out of his room. She tried to protest, but he pushed her out of his room, and closed the door with a final thud. He threw on a robe that was hanging off the edge of his bed, and grabbed his phone before making his way downstairs.

**[Me: we’re still on for the art show right?]**

He lingered a moment on his phone, seeing if he was going to get a response, but ultimately decided to just let it be. Slipping it into his pocket, he wandered into the kitchen to fix himself a bowl of cereal.

“Morning honey,” his mom greeted, walking down the stairs in a button down shirt and slacks, “I have a meeting today with the neighborhood leaders, so I won’t be back till late. Leftovers are in the fridge,” she said quickly, pecking him on the head and grabbing a granola bar, “oh, tell Amber I love her,” she added, before slipping on her flats and heading out the door.

“Amber! Mom says she hates you!” he yelled up the stairs, chuckling to himself as he grabbed a spoon and plopped himself in front of the TV. His phone buzzed a few times, prompting him to immediately put down his bowl and check his text messages.

**[Underdog <3: duh dkdjdjsd of course we are]**

**[Underdog <3: meet u at noon]**

**[Underdog <3: and don’t point out jonah’s smittenness this time sksjdfh]**

TJ smiled, rereading those three texts a few more times before he was snapped out of his thoughts by a certain blonde.

“TJ!” Amber repeated, “I asked if you could give me and Andi a ride to the art show. She’ll come here first,”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I can, I can do that,” he fumbled, quickly turning his phone off and putting it in the pocket of his robe. He tried to go back to eating his cereal, but Amber kept her gaze firmly on him, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Who’s texting you?” she smirked, taking a seat by him and reaching for his pocket, but TJ swatted her way.

“Nobody,” he grumbled, setting his bowl down and standing up, “just go get ready for the art show.” He started up the stairs, hoping Amber didn’t notice how loudly his heart was beating or how fast the blood rushed to his cheeks. He stopped once he reached his room, taking a breath in to try and calm his nerves. Checking his phone once more, he decided to send a quick text to Cyrus; TJ was the kind of person who hated not being the last one to send a text.

**[Me: no promises. see you there ;)]**

And before he had enough time to read and reread his text, he hit send. Was the winky face too flirty? Did it sound like he was going to do something that he shouldn’t? What was Cyrus thinking about it? What if he didn’t read his texts? What if-

“TJ!” Amber knocked on his door, “what’s taking so long? We’re going to be late!” she crooned, harshly tapping her foot.

Forgetting about the texts, TJ smirked, throwing his robe on the bed, and grabbing a red t-shirt and khakis. “Are you so worried that your girlfriend is going to freak out that you’re not there holding her hand?” he teased, chuckling when he heard her exhale loudly through her nose.

“I swear that if you call her my girlfriend one more fucking time, I will break down this door,” she threatened, the volume of her foot tapping increasing.

TJ swung open the door and leaned against the wall. “It’s a good thing I’m ready then, huh,” he joked, grabbing his phone from off of his nightstand and heading downstairs. As he went to go grab his keys, the doorbell rang.

“I’ve got it!” Amber yelled, half-running half-skipping to answer the door while slipping on her socks. One breath later, she opened the door to reveal Andi, who sported a flowery crop top and high-waisted yellow shorts. Her hair was pushed back by a black headband, and each of her fingers were adorned by rings. She kept her journal in between her arm and her torso, the spine adorned with sequins.

“Wow,” Amber muttered under her breath, before clearing her throat, “I-I mean, I, uh, I really like your outfit,”

“Thanks,” Andi replied, seemingly unfazed, “I like yours too,” she added, stepping inside and peering at the photos by the door.  There were a few of Amber and TJ’s parents at their wedding, but the one that Andi liked the most was one of Amber and TJ when they were young and, evidently, covered in cake.

“You’re so cute in this one!” Andi gushed, and before Amber even had time to try and hide her blush, TJ shuffled towards the door, keys, phone, and journal in hand.

“Sorry it took so long, I got. . .distracted,” he mumbled, slipping on his pair of sneakers and trying to avoid Amber’s inevitable gaze, “ready to go?”

The trio headed out towards TJ’s car; a gently used truck, with a basketball sticker near the license plate. Amber and Andi sat in the back while TJ drove, and he couldn’t help but wink at Amber while Andi was adjusting her seatbelt. He turned on the radio as he backed out of the driveway, the gentle hum of Owl City filling the car.

“You like this?” Andi asked, giving a look of confusion.

“TJ’s a sap for nostalgic tunes,” she supplied, tossing her hair over the headrest, “whenever he drives, it’s a playlist filled with nothing but songs you screeched in elementary school,”

TJ scoffed, glancing up at his mirror. “Haven’t outgrown my seven-year old phase, gonna ride this one out,” he retorted playfully, turning up the radio.

The rest of the ride was mostly the same. The song would switch, Amber would tell Andi why TJ liked the song so much, and Andi would laugh so hard that it hurt. TJ couldn’t help but smile as he pulled into the parking lot of the art show. It took a little while for them to find parking (who knew Shadyside was the place to seek out local artists?), but after TJ circled around and cursed one too many times not so under his breath, they parked.

Amber and Andi quickly left, grabbing their belongings and leaving a trail of giggles behind. Shaking his head, TJ collected his things, locked the car, and went to find Cyrus, which didn’t take long. Only one high schooler would parade around an art show with their face painted like a puppy.

“Underdog,” TJ called, tearing Cyrus’ attention away from whatever photograph he was looking at, “what’s up?”

“TJ!” Cyrus cheered, saying a few words to who appeared to be the photographer before squeezing through a throng of bodies, and making his way towards TJ, “ready to explore the deep and mysterious realm of Shadyside’s art?”

TJ laughed heartily, tossing his head back. “Oh, I think I’m looking at the biggest mystery here,” he joked, studying Cyrus’ face, “who did that for you?”

“Walker did! Do you like it?” Cyrus asked, batting his lashes and sticking out his tongue.

I like so much more than the face paint, he thought, before nodding his head and pulling out his phone. “A true Underdog,” he mumbled, snapping a photo and showing the other boy.

“Boo, some of it is smudged,” Cyrus frowned, “take another one, please?”

“Nope,” TJ stated, pocketing his phone, “it looks fine. Besides, aren’t we here to see the real art?”

Cyrus put his hand over his chest, melodramatically. “How you wound me. Here I was thinking I was the real art,” he proclaimed, breaking into a fit of giggles, “c’mon, let’s go see some real art,” he added, grabbing TJ’s wrist and pulling him through a crowd of people.

Don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t blush, TJ repeated to himself, instead choosing to blame his tinted cheeks on the heat.

They met up with Walker, and coincidentally Jonah, who were both hanging out by the face painting booth. Cyrus chatted with them for a little, while TJ glanced around the booth, taking in the details. He nearly choked on his own spit when he saw a small yellow heart on Jonah’s hand, with a faint blue ‘W’ inside of it. Call it fate or blame it on the universe, but the two boys made eye contact, and TJ glanced from Jonah’s hand to his eyes. The other boy ducked his head, putting his hand behind his back and mouthing ‘you saw nothing’.

“Do you wanna go check out the sculptures?” TJ asked, tapping Cyrus lightly on the shoulder.

“Oh, yeah totally! I’ll check in with you guys later,” he said with a wave, pivoting on his heel and turning to TJ with a confident smile.

TJ rolled his eyes. “You let Walker fix your face paint?”

Cyrus looked down at his feet, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Maybe. . .look a sculpture!” he cut in, rushing past a group of people before TJ could comment anything more on his face paint.

* * *

“It’s. . .interesting,” Cyrus noted, narrowing his eyes at the sculpture in front of them, “what am I looking at exactly?”

“It’s a tree made of makeup brushes,” TJ pointed out, “and the leaves are mirrors,” he added, mesmerized by all the different textures and colors.

“You really like it, huh,” Cyrus concluded, his black and white lips curling into a smile, “I’m not a big sculpture person. I prefer photography, myself,”

“But sculptures are just so. . .amazing. They’re all multidimensional and there’s so many sides to them that every angle is different. Maybe one isn’t as good as the other, but they all have value,” TJ gushed, practically in a daze.

Cyrus blinked. “Who knew you were such a passionate person about sculptures?” he mumbled, earning TJ’s attention.

He shrugged in response, kicking at a pebble on the ground. “I’d like they think they’re a little like me. Depends on which angle you view it at, dimensions, layers, and so on,”

There’s a word for that, Cyrus thought to himself. “Huh. Never thought I’d take you for someone who’s really passionate about the arts. Sculpture, I guess,” he hummed, his lips quirking into a smile.

TJ bit his lip to try and refrain from smiling like an idiot. “I can turn that back to you. Why do you like photography so much?”

Taken aback, Cyrus’ brows nearly shot up to his hairline. “. . .How did you know that?”

TJ shrugged, wandering around a couple of the paintings. “I saw the way you looked at the photographs when I walked in,” the boy supplied. It’s the same way I look at you, he thought to himself.

Seemingly content with his answer, Cyrus walked beside him. “I’ve never been good at ‘living in the moment’,” he explained with air quotes, “like, I’m the kind of person who will worry about what I’m going to have for breakfast when I’m seventy. Photography is kind of an escape from that. It’s nothing but the moment,”

TJ nodded, squinting to see a figure in the distance. “Is that Buffy?”

Cyrus followed his gaze, his face brightening when he saw his curly-haired friend, and someone else by her side, who could only be Marty. “Let’s go say hi!” he insisted, grabbing TJ’s wrist again and yelling the girl’s name over and over.

“Hey Cyrus,” she greeted warmly, pulling him into a hug, “hi TJ,” she added nodding her head in acknowledgement.

“Driscoll. Mr. The Party,” TJ greeted, giving Marty a fistbump, “where were you guys yesterday?”

“Basketball tournament,” they replied in unison, before Buffy took over, “I made a girls summer basketball team, and yesterday was the first day. You’re looking at the newest point guard,” she stated confidently.

A few cheers and clapping ensued, Cyrus being the loudest of them all. “And I’m assuming Marty was there for support?” he added, wiggling his brows.

“Actually I was there as her supportive boyfriend,” he chuckled, interlacing Buffy’s hand with his. TJ and Cyrus looked like they’d just seen a car accident. “We’re gonna go check out some art,”

“Text me later,” Cyrus deadpanned, his attention all on Buffy. The couple walked away, and Cyrus lingered a moment longer on them, “I can’t believe she didn’t tell me about her and Marty. I mean, I always suspected something, but,” Cyrus shook his head, unable to form proper sentences.

“They look happy,” TJ noted, the two absentmindedly making their way to the entrance. After a beat, he spoke again. “That was really fun,”

Cyrus nodded in agreement. “This is going to be one hell of a journal entry,” he commented, pulling his out of his pocket, along with a pen, “I’m gonna sit on that bench and write my entry, before I forget what happened. Do you wanna join me?”

And as badly as TJ wanted to do that, he knew he’d have a heart attack trying to write about Cyrus and what he did with him. He’d definitely make it sound a lot more than a date than it actually was. Plus, he had to take Amber home right about now.

“Wish I could, but I think I have to take Amber home. Next time?” he offered, to which Cyrus smiled in response, “I’ll text you later if I have any ideas about what we should do next,”

“Okay,” he responded, his gaze switching to his sneakers, “I had a lot of fun today, too,” he added, saying goodbye to TJ with a quick wave. He turned and walked over to the bench, sat down, and started scribbling in his journal.

TJ started walking towards his car, pulling out his phone to send Amber a quick text.

**[Me: do you need a ride home?]**

The response was almost immediate, a text along with a photo.

**[andi’s girlfriend: nah, i’ll walk. andi and i are at the spoon. be home later]**

**[andi’s girlfriend send a photo]**

TJ beamed: Amber and Andi were splitting a smoothie and a basket of baby taters. He could barely see his sister’s journal in the corner of the photo. Quickly, he saved it to his camera roll, and headed to his car. Leaning back against the leather, he recounted the events of the day. Cyrus’ texts. His adorable face paint. Cyrus grabbing his wrist. Cyrus grabbing his wrist. That was all he could think about. Not wanting to forget what happened, he pulled out his journal and fished for a pen, which was hidden at the bottom of his cup holder.

_6/2_

_Today I went to an art fair with Cyrus. We saw a sculpture of a tree made of makeup brushes and mirrors. I thought it was really beautifully made. Cyrus really liked the photography. His eyes lit up when he talked about why photography was important to him. We ran into Walker and Jonah, who helped touch up Cyrus’ face paint. Oh, yeah. Cyrus had his face painted like an adorable puppy. We also saw Buffy and Marty at the art show. It was a really fun day._

There was still some room left at the bottom of the page, to TJ decided that he was going to print out the picture of Cyrus that he’d snapped earlier and paste it there. Satisfied with his work, he turned his car on and started driving home. He passed the bench that Cyrus was on, slowing down for a brief second and smiling before he continued to drive.

I wonder what Cyrus is writing, he thought to himself all the way home. And even when he unlocked the door to his house and flopped on the couch to watch TV, he still found himself wondering the same thing.

* * *

Cyrus tapped his chin with his pen. Think, think, think, he instructed himself. There was a word that perfectly described how TJ felt about art, that sculpture in particular. He was fairly certain that it started with a ‘D’, but he couldn’t place it. Sighing in frustration, he pulled his phone out so look it up.

_art moving a person deeply_

Cyrus smacked his forehead, grunting in frustration. He knew that word; he’s used it in an essay before. Flipping to the back of his journal, he copied down the words on his screen.

_duende: the mysterious power of art to deeply move a person_

He closed his journal with a content snap, and put it under his arm. He hadn’t expected to write so much about the day, since not too much happened, but since he apparently couldn’t find the words to describe his adventures with TJ when he was around him, the words seemed to have come to him all of a sudden. TJ had that effect on him. Funny.

Pocketing his phone and journal, he started to walk home, passing by a small table full of flyers and business cards from all the local artists. He picked up a flyer and beamed, quickly pulling out his phone and snapping a picture.

**[Me: tj i found our next activity!!]**

**[you sent a photo]**

And TJ replied barely a few seconds later.

**[Teej: staring at the stars? sure let’s just exhaust the movie cliches]**

**[Teej: kidding ofc that sounds dope. tmrw @ 7 be there or be square]**

Cyrus broke out into a grin, folding the flyer and putting it in his pocket, heading home. It’d been a pretty good day. He got to hang out with his friends, get his face painting (which at this point was starting to smudge quite a lot), check out some cool art, and tomorrow he was going to gaze at the stars with TJ. It all felt like a movie; one where he was finally going to be a main character.


	3. Nyctophilia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nyctophilia (n.): love of darkness or night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> songs i listened to for this one: fireflies by owl city, can't help falling in love my elvis, and i'm so in love with you by jill andrews
> 
> link for a spotify playlist will be in the end notes!!

“We are going to be late and so help me if it’s because you’re fixing your hair,” TJ sighed, relaxing against the bathroom door. Blankets in hand, and phone, keys, and journal in his pockets, he’d been ready to go for a while.

Amber swung open the door, smiling smugly. “It’s not because I was fixing my hair,” she stated coyly, “I was doing my makeup,”

TJ rolled his eyes, lightly hitting Amber with his blanket. “I’m sure Andi will love you no matter how you look,” he commented, heading down the stairs, “speaking of which, how was your date?”

“For the last time, it wasn’t a date,” she snapped, grabbing her own journal and phone.

“Oh, come on,” TJ groaned, slipping on his shoes, “you two _literally_ shared a milkshake and you looked adorable,”

Amber’s cheeks were tainted a deep shade of pink, but who was to say whether that was he blush or her anger. “Smoothie,” she mumbled under her breath, lacing up her sneakers, “plus, you and Cyrus go to the Spoon too and split baby taters all the time,”

Now it was TJ’s turn to turn red. “That’s. . .different,” he muttered, earning knowing look from Amber, which he brushed off, “ready to go?”

Amber plucked the keys from his hand, grinning from ear to ear. “Definitely. We’re actually gonna listen to _good_ music on the way there,”

TJ pouted, hauling the blankets into the back of his truck. “You mean we’re going to listen to Hayley Kiyoko all the way there,” he groaned, taking his spot in the passenger’s seat.

Amber narrowed her eyes, turning the key without breaking her gaze with TJ. “Do _not_ insult the lesbian goddess,” she deadpanned, selecting CD 1, rolling down the windows, and humming along to the music. TJ rolled his eyes, pressing his cheek to the window and watching the lights pass by.

* * *

 

As soon as TJ saw people at the park, he shut off the radio, earning a few words from Amber. With no help from her, naturally, he hauled the blankets over to a free spot, spreading them out neatly.

“You and Andi can take that one,” he pointed to a pink one with hearts.

Amber rolled her eyes, but tore her attention away from her brother when she saw the lights of a car blinding her.

“Hey guys!” Andi called, holding a basket in her hand, followed by Cyrus, Buffy, and Marty.

“How many of you can fit in that car?” TJ questioned, watching as Bex drove away.

“If you squeeze hard enough, you can fit us all, believe it or not,” Cyrus chuckled, “ready to gaze at the stars?”

TJ nodded, before noticing that Andi and Amber were wandering towards one of the blankets. The one with the hearts. Funny.

“It’s still kinda light out,” TJ noted, “maybe we should do something until we can actually see the stars,”

Cyrus grinned, rushing over towards Andi’s basket and grabbing two jars. “I’m glad you said that,” he replied, handing one of the jars to TJ.

“Not that I don’t love gifts from you but. . .what am I supposed to do with this?” TJ asked.

“Duh, we’re gonna catch fireflies,” Cyrus scoffed, squinting his eyes to try and see the little flickers of yellow, “there!”

Uncapping the jar, the shorter boy chased after he little insect, trying, in vain, to catch it. It seemed like with each move forward, the firefly zipped around in a circle, thoroughly confusing Cyrus.

TJ, much to Cyrus’ expectations, was a natural. He seemed to be able to predict where the bugs were going to be without them even shining their light. After ten minutes, he had nearly fifteen bugs in his jar.

“No fair,” Cyrus pouted crossing his arms, “you're an athlete, which gives you, like, a million advantage points,” he huffed.

TJ chuckled, uncapping his jar and tilting the mouth of it into Cyrus’ hand. A few slipped out and immediately flew away, but one stayed in his hand, calmly flickering like a bulb that was bound to die out soon.

“They’re so. . .magical,” Cyrus murmured. TJ found himself staring at Cyrus’ eyes, the gentle glow of the fireflies slightly illuminating his features.

“Hey, Cy-Guy!” A voice shattered the moment, causing TJ to drop his jar and lose his fireflies.

“Jonah, hey,” Cyrus greeted, mouthing ‘sorry’ to TJ before turning his attention back to Jonah, “and Walker,” he added, acknowledging him with a nod.

“Hey,” Walker said, his fingers brushing against Jonah’s, “you ready to watch some stars? Glimmering brighter than your eyes?”

Jonah rolled his eyes, threading his hands with Walker’s. “Dork,” he mumbled, “you can point out all the constellations and gush over how they’re cuter than me,”

“Impossible, nothing can be cuter than me,” Walker giggled, dragging Jonah over to their blanket.

Cyrus and TJ just stared. Even after they left, it was like they were frozen into the ground. “Did you also-”

“Yup,” TJ cut in, nodding his head, “how on earth did they-”

“No idea,”

* * *

 

After everyone had gotten snacks, and Marty and Buffy had themselves a popcorn fight to see who could catch more in their mouths, everybody settled down on their respective blankets and got ready to gaze at the stars. Jonah had brought a speaker he had so that they could play music. People suggested songs, and once it looked like everyone had settled down, the music started, with Fireflies by Owl City being up first.

“I _love_ this song,” Cyrus murmured, giving up on propping himself up on his elbows and instead opting for lying down on his back by TJ, “a classic,”

TJ grinned, putting his hands behind his head. “This was my choice,” he admitted sheepishly, “I think it fits the mood perfectly. The midnight sky, the stars sprinkled throughout, and especially the way that the moon reflects on the water,”

“Mangata,” Cyrus stated simply, earning a confused look from TJ, “that’s what it’s called when the moon reflects onto the water.” Cyrus really liked listening to TJ talk about things he liked.

“You wanna write in the journals before it gets too dark?” TJ suggested, to which Cyrus agreed. Each of them pulled out their respective journals and began to write. Cyrus immediately went to the back of his and wrote down another word.

_nyctophilia: love of darkness or night_

Then he flipped back to where he had left off and started writing down what had happened.

_6/3_

_Today TJ and I, along with Marty, Buffy, Walker, Jonah, Amber, and Andi went to the stargazing event in the park. We got there kinda early, so TJ and I caught fireflies to pass the time. I, being the unfortunately unathletic person that I am, didn’t catch any, but TJ put one in my hands and it was magnificent. The firefly was magnificent, that is. Not that TJ isn’t. He’s cool. Anyways, now we’re watching the stars and they look amazing. TJ loves the dark so much, and I think it’s kinda cool how he’s able to be mesmerized by all that the night has to offer. I’m not sure what we’ll do next, but I’m sure it’ll be really fun!!_

Shutting his journal and putting the strap around it, he settled down once again, followed by TJ a few moments later. Together, they listened to Walker talk about all the constellations, and watched him draw Jonah’s finger to trace them.

“They are sickeningly adorable,” TJ murmured, glancing over at Cyrus.

Cyrus yawned, his head barely gracing TJ’s shoulder. “Mhm,” he hummed, letting his eyes flutter shut, unbeknownst to TJ. He spent some time listening to the soft music, and admiring all the stars. Suddenly, a shooting star graced the sky, and a blanket of ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ fell over the crowd.

“Cyrus, did you see that? Make a wish,” TJ whispered, turning to face him, only to find that he’d fallen asleep. Perhaps he lingered a moment too long on the other boy’s face, but it wasn’t his fault that he looked like an angel, his lips slightly parted, and his cheek pressed up against TJ’s shoulder. Trying not to wake him, TJ reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone to snap a selfie of them. He favorited the photo, and put his phone back.

 _I wish that Cyrus would like me back_ , TJ thought to himself, before someone poked his shoulder.

“TJ,” Amber nudged him, “I’m going to sleep over at Andi’s house. I already texted mom, and Bex is going to take us. Here are the keys so you can drive back,”

TJ nodded, taking the keys, and glancing down at a sleeping Cyrus. He had to get the boy home somehow. Taking a breath, he stood up and tried to shake him awake, but to no avail; the boy was out like a light. Huffing, TJ picked up the smaller boy, their journals, and the blanket and slung them over his shoulder. He started walking to his car, which seemed like it was a lot farther away now that he was carrying another person. He couldn’t tell if his heart beating like crazy was because of how close he was to Cyrus or because of the physical exertion. Probably both.

With one click, he unlocked the car and put Cyrus in the passenger seat, buckling him up and placing the blanket over him. He shut the door, hurried over to his side of the car, and started driving towards Cyrus’ house. He’d been there enough times to know the way, so he turned on the radio quietly, and smiled. It played soft, romantic music, which TJ loved, given the circumstances.

As TJ pulled into Cyrus’ neighborhood, the boy next to him started to stir, stretching and allowing his eyes to flutter open. “What’s happening?” he said groggily, rubbing his eyes and trying to take in his surroundings.

“You fell asleep while we were watching the stars,” TJ supplied, pulling into the Goodman’s driveway and shutting the car off, “so I. . .drove you home-I hope that was okay,”

Cyrus smiled sleepily, reaching over and giving TJ a hug. “Thank you, TJ,” he murmured into the other boy’s shirt, “you’re the best,”

_Baboombaboombaboom._

Walking like he’d just returned home from a college party, Cyrus ambled up to the door and went inside. TJ watched to make sure that he got inside okay before pulling out of the driveway and heading back home. He could feel his heartbeat inside his ears, thumping over and over. This boy was something else. And he wanted to shout about him from the top of his house. But that meant announcing to the world who he really was, and what if the world didn’t like him?

* * *

 

When he got home, he called for his mom, but no response came. _Meeting_ , TJ thought to himself, putting his keys and the two journals on the table. Two journals? He forgot to give Cyrus his back when he dropped him off. Sighing, he grabbed his phone instead.

**[Me: hey i forgot to give you your journal. see you tmrw? swings?]**

And although he thought Cyrus was asleep, the response was near immediate.

**[Underdog <3: yeah sounds good! i can b there at noon]**

**[Underdog <3: thanks for taking me home, btw. you’re amazing :)]**

TJ put his head in his hands, probably blushing like an idiot. He was _so_ whipped for this boy, and he needed to tell someone. . anyone. Well, almost anyone.

With bravery he didn’t know he possessed, TJ tapped on Amber’s icon and waited for her to accept his FaceTime request.

“What is it?” she replied after a few moments, “I can’t be long, Andi’s gonna worry why I’m gonna be in the bathroom for so long and I can’t have her--”

“I don’t think I’m straight,” he cut her off, followed by silence. He thought the connection was lost, so he tapped the screen a few times. “Amber? You still there?”

“Sorry I was just hearing very loud circus music in my head,” she shook her head, “you’re _gay_?”

“I don’t know,” he corrected, “whatever the hell I am, it’s not straight. And it’s been bugging me for a while, just like silently gnawing at me, and I needed to tell someone,”

“Aww,” Amber cooed mockingly, putting her hand on her cheek, “you decided to come to your sister?”

“Don’t make me regret this,” he warned, pinching his nose and sighing, “anyways. Thanks. For. . .picking up, you know,”

Amber nodded, and TJ could barely make out Andi’s voice cutting through. “I have to go, but can I ask you something?”

“Aww,” TJ mocked his sister, “are you worried you’re going to keep your girlfriend waiting?”

Amber rolled her eyes, but didn’t comment anything snarky in return. “. . .Is this because of Cyrus?”

And then TJ went silent, silently cursing himself for allowing his sister to ask anything “That. . .that’s irrelevant,” he lied through his teeth.

“Mhm,” Amber hummed, unconvinced, “we’ll talk more tomorrow. I gotta go.” And with that, she hung up, and TJ was alone again. Kicking off his shoes, he flopped down on the couch, and promptly fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spotify link: https://open.spotify.com/user/mstheojames/playlist/0pD8GPVGL9IzZLpjGBwluX?si=vnU2yLhDTmSSy8JJrJQaFg


	4. Smultronställe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> smultronställe (n.): lit. "a place of wild strawberries"; a special place discovered, treasured, returned to for solace and relaxation

_Don’t be late. Don’t be late. Don’t be late._

TJ hurried towards the swings, nearly tripping over his untied shoes (which Amber reminded him of earlier). He checked his phone again, and 12:01 shone back at him. _Crap_.

“Cyrus!” he called, seeing a figure in the distance, his swing moving ever so slightly. As he got closer, he could see that Cyrus looked, dare he say it, forlorn? He slowed his pace, trying to regain oxygen in his lungs so he wasn’t panting.

Cyrus didn’t respond; his gaze was laser focused on the ground, at a small patch of wild strawberries growing near the swings. He didn’t really notice when TJ had sat down by him, other than noting that the swing was moving.

“I brought your journal,” TJ said after a pause, handing it to Cyrus, who took it without looking up at him. He nodded in gratitude, placing the small book beside him. And then it was silent again. TJ tried to let it go on as much as he possibly could, counting the blades of glass that poked out from underneath the wood chips.

“Thanks,” Cyrus finally spoke, his voice sounding strangely small, “for the journal, I mean,”

TJ nodded, waiting for him to say more but he didn’t. Motivated by what one could only call absurd bravery, he extended his hand out for Cyrus, if he so desired. After feeling like it was a mistake and ready to take it back, the other boy reached his hand out and linked his pinky with TJ’s, and both boys audibly sighed.

“Smultronställe,” Cyrus mumbled, his and TJ’s hands swinging lightly between them, “it’s Swedish,” he added, noting TJ’s expression, “it means, like, well it literally translates to ‘a place of wild strawberries’, but it’s, like, a place you return to for relaxation and solace,”

“Swings,” TJ replied, after he’d processed that Cyrus was one mystery after another, “they’re peaceful,”

“. . .Yeah,” Cyrus hesitated, chewing on his lower lip, “a smultronställe is supposed to be a stress free place. . .”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming,” TJ filled in the space, gently giving the other boy’s pinky a squeeze.

Cyrus sighed, taking both of his hands and using them to prop up his head with his hands, his elbows resting on his thighs. “Do you ever feel weird?”

TJ blinked, rubbing his hands against his knees. “Weird? Like, in what sense?”

Cyrus sighed, gripping the swings and throwing his head back. “Like, I don’t know,” he groaned, failing to find the right words, “like, it’s like, I’m on the outside. Like I’m watching myself live a life that I’m being. . .not forced, per se,” he muttered, sitting upright, “but like. . .pushed? Maybe? I don’t know,”

TJ nodded, kicking his feet a little to start swaying. “I get that,” he agreed, “it’s like. . .you recognize that you’re living a life where some things that you thought you could or should control, you can’t,”

“Exactly, and like,” Cyrus huffed, “I should be able to have control over these things in my life. Control over who knows, and when, and how they find out,” he rambled, clenching his hands into fists, which did not go unnoticed by TJ.

“Hey,” TJ whispered, straddling the swing, “whatever it is you need to get off your chest,” he gestured to himself, “I’m here for you,”

Cyrus let out a shaky sigh, his eyes glossy with a layer of tears forming, threatening to fall with a single blink. “I. . .sorry, this is just hard to say and I’m worried, even though I really _shouldn’t_ be because I know you’re a great person and,” he took a deep breath, trying to continue. He shut his eyes tightly, a few loose tears trickling down his face.

TJ instinctively reached out and swiped them away, putting his hands on Cyrus’ shoulders. “You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to,” TJ reminded him, feeling Cyrus relax under his touch. Cyrus’ heart was probably racing, but TJ’s felt like it was going to explode out of his chest.

“You’re gonna hate me,” he whispered, the very idea making a sob escape from his lips, “you’re never going to want to be around me again.”

TJ felt tears budding at the corners of his eyes, but he didn’t let them escape, for Cyrus’ sake. “I could never hate you, Underdog,” he promised, wanting nothing more than to just press a kiss to the other boy’s temple and make him feel better, “there’s nothing you can say to make me stop being around you. I mean, unless you murdered someone,”

Cyrus snorted, a tiny smile ghosting his lips. “I haven’t murdered anyone,” he replied softly, inhaling sharply, “but, TJ. . .I’m gay,”

And there it was. He finally mustered up the courage to push those two terrifying words out, and now they hung in the open. Cyrus couldn’t even look at TJ’s face, not willing himself to meet his gaze of what he was sure would be utmost disgust and disappointment.

“So?”

Cyrus’ head snapped up, his watery gaze meeting TJ’s nonchalant one. “What do you mean ‘so’”?

TJ shrugged, putting his hand on the other boy’s knee. “I _mean_ that I’m glad you told me, but that it doesn’t change how I think of you. You’re still you, Cyrus. I’d accept you no matter what,” he promised, opening out his arms.

Cyrus straddled the swing as well, and leaned forward, burying his head in his TJ’s chest, and letting the tears flow openly. And even though the chains of the swings were digging into him (and probably TJ too, as a result), he felt so much _better_. It was, as cliche as it sounded, like a weight lifted off of his shoulders. He finally felt like he didn’t have to walk on eggshells around one person.

TJ, however, felt almost the opposite. Of course he would accept Cyrus, that wasn’t even a question; it would be hypocritical if he didn’t, afterall. He wanted so badly to tack on ‘I’m gay too’ to his little acceptance speech, but he didn’t. He didn’t want to take this important moment away from Cyrus. So, he simply cut that part out. But every second that passed, he started to regret that decision. Coincidentally so, every second that passed, he thought would be a worse and worse time to come out.

Cyrus picked his head up from TJ shirt, fanning his eyes quickly. “Sorry,” he mustered, choking out a laugh, “I didn’t think I’d be crying, at least this hard,”

“Don’t apologize, Cy. It can be terrifying to put yourself out there,” TJ reminded him.

Cyrus scoffed, swiping at his loose tears. “You mean like when a certain basketball player asks girls to dances but they never say no?”

TJ laughed nervously, averting his attention from the other boy. “Something like that,” he mumbled, just quiet enough so Cyrus didn’t hear.

“Now that I feel emotionally drained,” Cyrus chuckled softly, “we should do something, like actually fun. There’s a laser tag place pretty close by. . .what do you say?”

TJ smirked, cracking his knuckles. “Hate to break it to you, Underdog, but I am a master at laser tag,”

“Is that a challenge?” Cyrus raised his brows, “You absolute overconfident buffoon, laser tag is a game of skill, not athleticism,”

“We’ll see about that,”

* * *

 About an hour later, they found themselves at the laser tag arena, with Amber, Andi, Marty, and Buffy. They texted them as soon as they left the swings, and agreed to meet up and play a round or two. And TJ may or may not have slipped the employee at the table a few dollars to convince him to be on Cyrus’ team. Amber and Andi were on opposing teams, but they swore they wouldn’t go for each other. Buffy and Marty begged to be on opposing teams, but the man was either too tired or didn’t care enough to do anything.

“Let me help you with that,” TJ offered, helping Cyrus slip the jacket over his head, “wouldn’t wanna lose because of faulty use,”

“Okay, so,” the employee, a man who looked no older than 20 sighed, “two teams. No running, no profanity, and please when I say the game is over, exit through the door. It’ll be lit by the orange arrows. Have fun,”

He opened the doors, and immediately, all the kids, including ones that they had never seen before, were scampering around the arena, filling the room with squeals and the sound of feet pounding the carpet.

Cyrus did what he did best; find a small corner, crouch, and try and stay hidden. A few little kids spooked him and shot at him, effectively lowering his score. Groaning, he put his head in his hands.

“Boo,” a familiar voice interrupted.

Cyrus scrambled to grab his laser gun, shooting blindly and hoping he was hitting something.

“We’re on the same team, dumbass,” TJ snarked kneeling down beside him, “I’m here to help you,” he added, sitting down and leaning against the wall.

“Thanks,” Cyrus mumbled, pulling his knees into his chest, “I’m not really good at this. I may or may not have lied,”

TJ breathed out a laugh, opening his mouth to say something, but he was cut off by a barrage of kids screaming and coming their way. After a split second, TJ jumped behind Cyrus.

“What are you doing?” Cyrus hissed, before feeling a pair of arms wrap loosely around him and grabbing his laser gun.

“Helping you win, duh,” he muttered, taking Cyrus’ hands and putting them on his laser gun. He let his hand rest gently on top, and he couldn’t help but try and bite back a smile. Bringing their hands up, he helped Cyrus aim and shoot at the other team, the lights on their vest going out. Just then, a voice over the announcer said that the game was over, and to please follow the orange arrows to the exit.

Marty and Buffy were the first ones out the door, with Buffy pumping her fist, as she’d beat Marty. Amber and Andi walked out hand in hand, which honestly, did not surprise TJ, or Cyrus for that matter, in the slightest.

“Hey look! You did it!” TJ pointed at the screen, where the number one spot was occupied by the screen name of RAINBOW. It matched the name that Cyrus had on his vest.

“ _We_ did it. I wouldn’t have gotten close without your help, you know,” he insisted, taking his vest off and hanging it on the wall, TJ doing the same.

“I’m so proud of you, I could just hug you right now,” TJ exclaimed, clasping his hand over his mouth immediately after. Did he really just say that out loud?

Cyrus chuckled, shrugging. “What’s stopping you?”

TJ opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. _To hell with it_ , he thought, reaching forward and wrapping Cyrus in a hug. Truly, he could stay like this forever, his life encapsulated in this one moment.

“You’re a pretty good hugger,” Cyrus commented, still not detaching from the other boy, “and that’s coming from someone who really enjoys hugs,”

TJ pulled his torso back, his arms still wrapped around Cyrus’ waist. “What makes you think I don’t really enjoy hugs? I love hugs,”

Cyrus rolled his eyes playfully, a smile dancing on his lips. “Surprise after surprise, Teej,”

“Alright break it up, lovebirds,” Buffy intruded, startling both boys out of their moment, “Marty and I are going for milkshakes. And,” she added, glancing at him, “he’s paying because _I_ won laser tag,”

Marty pretended to bow down to her, raising and lowering his arms. “As you with, my queen,”

“You guys wanna come?”

Cyrus and TJ exchanged glances, shaking their heads in unison. “We’re good thanks,” Cyrus replied, to which Buffy gave him a knowing look, before turning and leaving with Marty, hand in hand.

Amber and Andi were over by the air hockey table, playing each other and laughing to hard that TJ thought one of them might pass out at some point. Amber looked up for a moment, meeting her brother’s eyes. He raised his brows, while Amber glanced at Cyrus over and over, as if trying to push TJ to talking to him.

“So,” he started, kicking at the carpet, “what should we do for the next activity? Anything you want,”

At that, Cyrus beamed, his eyes lighting up. “There’s a Christmas in July festival close by! And I know that it’s kind of far away but, like, tickets are on sale,” he suggested.

“That sounds awesome,” he smiled, before he faltered, “I think I’m going on vacation for part of July though. When is it?”

“Um,” he hummed, pulling out his phone and searching, “. . . it’s the 13th and 14th of July,”

TJ fist pumped the air, smiling. “I’ll be there,”

“Great,” he replied, followed by a beat of silence, “I’m gonna get going home but. . .today was so fun. Thanks for winning for me,”

“Hey,” TJ gently punched his shoulder, “you could’ve done it. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Cyrus nodded, pivoting on his heel and walking out the door.

TJ smiled to himself. It’d been a pretty good day.

* * *

When he got home, Cyrus flopped down on his bed, pulling his journal out from under his bed and flipping to the back. He thought back to the events of the day, before picking a word.

_cingulomania: the desire to hold someone in your arms_

He lingered a moment longer, remembering him and TJ, together in the little arcade. TJ really did give the best hugs. Maybe-

“Nope,” Cyrus mumbled, flipping back to the front and pushing his emotions aside, “just gonna write down what happened. Journalism. No feelings. Just facts.”

* * *

_6/4_

_Today me and Cyrus went to the swings and ~~he came out to me~~ we talked. Nothing in particular just about us. Then we went to the laser arcade with Marty, Buffy, Andi, and Amber. Cyrus and I stuck together and he ended up coming on top! I was really proud of him. Then we hugged in celebration ~~and he told me that I gave the best hugs.~~ We made plans to go to the Christmas in July festival, and it’s going to be so fun. I don’t know what we’re going to be doing tomorrow but I know it will be fun ~~because it’s gonna be with him.~~_

TJ sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He was probably going to have to rewrite this one, since there were so many things he needed to cross out. It didn’t help that all he could think about was Cyrus this and Cyrus that. Journalism was not going to be his forte if he couldn’t include emotions. Bummer.

**[andi’s girlfriend: TJ]**

**[andi’s girlfriend: TJ]**

**[andi’s girlfriend: SHE ASKED ME ON A DATE]**

**[andi’s girlfriend: SFKSFSFSK I CANT EVEN]**

**[andi’s girlfriend: i’m going to her house ill be back later** ]

TJ smiled at his messages. Called it,  he thought to himself.

**[Me: i’m gonna call her your girlfriend now and forever]**


	5. Nepenthe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nepenthe (n.): something that can make you forget grief or suffering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter took so long to write! I had writer's block, and couldn't figure out where I wanted it to go, but it's here now! Merry Christmas Eve! <3

**[Teej: heyy so im having a sleepover tonight and i was hoping you could come. i dont wanna be like the 5th wheel with amber and andi and walker and jonah]**

**[Teej: please save me]**

Cyrus smiled at his phone, shaking his head as he typed his response.

**[Me: mm fine i suppose i could do that. when should i come?]**

He started packing his duffel bag of things; pajamas, toothbrush, toothpaste, journal, pencils, and extra socks. His phone then buzzed a few more times.

**[Teej: considering it’s like 6:34 now. . .]**

**[Teej: as asap as possible]**

**[Teej: literally leave your house rn]**

“Mom, I’m going over to TJ’s,” he called dragging his bag to the door and fishing around in the bowl of keys for his car keys, “is it okay if I sleepover?”

“Sure honey,” Leslie said, walking into the hallway and handing him his keys, “just make sure that if you feel uncomfortable or nervous for any reason you-”

“ _Mom_ ,” he groaned, slipping on his sneakers and putting a hand on her shoulder, “I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll call if there’s anything,” he promised her, giving her a quick peck on the cheek, “love you,”

“Make good choices!” she called as he walked to his car.

“Oh, so I should leave the duffel bag of drugs at home?” he joked, watching his mom shake her head, “I’ll see you tomorrow,”

He clambered into his car, placing the duffel bag on the passenger’s seat and starting up the car, turning on the AC. With a few clicks, he turned on his ‘TJ Playlist’, which was mostly just songs that the basketball player indicated that he liked. There was a lot of High School Musical on there, and older tunes that Cyrus hadn’t really heard of. As he backed out the driveway, Can’t Help Falling in Love filled the car.

“Sap,” Cyrus commented to himself, chuckling as he made his way to TJ’s house.

* * *

 

Even though TJ and Cyrus were the best of friends, Cyrus had only been to TJ’s house maybe once or twice. He pulled into the driveway behind Jonah’s car, grabbed his stuff, and headed towards the door. For some reason, he couldn’t shake his nerves, no matter how many times he told himself that he was just hanging out with friends. But still, some weird gut-feeling lingered.

And then TJ opened the door.

“Thank goodness, come in,” TJ breathed out, grabbing Cyrus’ arm and tugging him inside, “they’re being all gross and flirty in the basement, and it’s just,” he sighed, pausing by the basement door, “lonely,”

Cyrus smiled sympathetically, squeezing one of TJ’s hand with his own and shifting his bag on his shoulder. “Good thing I’m here then, huh?” he chuckled, opening the door and bounding down the stairs, nearly tripping.

“Good thing you’re here,” TJ mumbled to himself, trying to rid his face of his ridiculous smile before heading into his basement.

* * *

 

“We win!” Walker cheered, pulling Jonah into a hug, as Cyrus and TJ made their way downstairs, “Damn, you guys missed it! Jonah and I just mopped the floor in Monopoly!”

“I wouldn’t say mopped the floor, it was pretty close,” Andi noted, putting her hands on Amber’s shoulders to try and calm her down, “we did a good job, Ambs,”

“But we _lost_ ,” Amber huffed, clenching her hands together, while Andi just chuckled.

“You’re like Buffy when she plays this game. Thank goodness she’s not here, or she’d start a riot,” Andi commented. Buffy was away at a basketball game with her summer team, and naturally Marty was with her, so tonight could have gone much worse.

“Alright, alright, you both did great,” TJ jumped in, taking a seat on the carpet and patting a spot next to him for Cyrus to sit, “what else should we do?”

“I kinda just wanna sit on the couch with Walker,” Jonah shrugged, taking Walker’s hand and leading him towards the couch. They smushed up against the edge of the couch, their legs tangled together, their eyes fluttering shut repeatedly.

“. . .Okay, so now that we know what they’re doing, what are we gonna do?” TJ asked, tracing circles into the carpet.

“Makeover?” Amber suggested, nodding upstairs, and Andi followed, “sorry TJ!”

TJ sighed; leave it up to Amber and the universe to leave him and Cyrus together. Huh, Amber and the Universe. That would make a pretty cool band name, and if-

“TJ, did you hear what I said?” Cyrus asked, breaking through his wall of thoughts. And then TJ was met with his eyes, warm and brown. And in that moment he wanted nothing more than to lean in and kiss him. . .but he didn’t.

“What? Sorry, I was just. . .lost in thought,” he admitted bashfully, his eyes flitting down to the carpet. His cheeks burned an embarrassing shade of red as he tried to cover his tracks.

“I asked if I could grab the Legos from the shelf,” Cyrus repeated, nodding towards the yellow box on his right. TJ nodded, muttering incomprehensible things under his breath as he followed Cyrus over to the shelf.

“Amber and I used to play with them a lot when we were younger,” he explained, grabbing another one off of the top shelf, “but then we just. . .kinda stopped, I guess, when we got older,”

Cyrus nodded wisely, taking the lid off, sitting down, and dumping the contents onto the carpet. “I haven’t played with them in years. I used to have a bunch of the Harry Potter sets, but I think my parents got rid of them after the divorce,”

“Sorry,” TJ replied, taking seat by Cyrus and sifting through the pieces in relative silence, “I-uh, I didn’t mean to-”

“-you didn’t, I did,” Cyrus corrected him, pushing all the red pieces into one pile, “It happened years ago, don’t worry about it. They’re still on good terms, and for the most part it’s nice, especially on my birthday,” he chuckled, sifting through some more pieces.

More silence. Absentmindedly, TJ started to built a little house, complete with a tiny garden and everything. “I used to be obsessed with Legos,” he admitted, nearly smiling, “I used to just sit in the basement for hours, day after day, with Amber after. . .Dad died,”

Cyrus dropped whatever piece was in his hand at the moment, his gaze on TJ’s hair that fell loosely over his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, after what felt like ages of silence. He placed his hand gently on TJ’s knee, giving it a gentle squeeze, “we can change the subject to-”

“-it’s okay,” TJ cut in, surprised at his own words. He almost always looked for a way to get out of talking about his feelings, let alone his dad, but with Cyrus, it was different. “I was little, nine or ten maybe,” he started, toying with a Lego in his hand, “my mom called Amber and I for a meeting in the living room and. . .she had this look on her face. And even though I was little, I _knew_ something had happened. A bad something,”

Cyrus listened intently, tracking TJ’s gaze and watching for tears, but none came. He didn’t know what to do other than sit and listen.

“She said, and I’ll never forget the words she used, ‘Daddy was in a car crash, and he’s not coming back’,” he repeated monotonously, as if he’d said the words over and over in his head before, “And I don’t think I cried until I saw her cry,” he admitted, “and then Amber and I were crying and we couldn’t stop. So I took her down into the basement and we just built things with Legos. We spent days sleeping here. We’d wake up and keep building whatever we wanted. It was like a distraction. Well, more like an escape; distractions are temporary, escapes help you heal,” he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. All this felt almost natural to say, as weird as that sounded.

Cyrus blinked a few times, almost in a trance at TJ’s words. Even though he was talking about his late father, it sounded oddly poetic, which was not something that Cyrus expected from him.

“There’s a word for that,” he murmured, thinking out loud, “something that can. . kinda take all the grief and suffering and bad things away,” he rambled, searching through his mental dictionary for words, but coming up short.

TJ nodded, taking his word for it. “I’m sure there is,” he replied, pausing before continuing, “that’s what it’s like when I hang out with you,” he blurted out, the blood rushing to the tips of his ears before he could fully comprehend the magnitude of what he’d just said.

Cyrus didn’t say anything, and neither did TJ, following that statement. He didn’t really know what to feel; flattered, yes, and also. . .some weird gut feeling that he didn’t recognize. He’d never known TJ to be so sentimental in his life, even if he’d known him since middle school. His eyes darted around the room, trying to find something to deter the conversation, but TJ beat him to it.

“So,” he started, clearing his throat, “we should. . .write something in our journals?” he said, but it came out more like a question, “mine’s upstairs, let me get it,” he scrambled to get up, bolting up the stairs.

As soon as TJ was out of his sight, Cyrus exhaled. He dug around in his bag for his journal and pen, flipping to the back for a moment. Using his phone, he searched:

_something that makes you forget suffering or bad things_

And there is was. He quickly copied it down.

_nepenthe: something that can make you forget grief or suffering_

He sighed contentedly; the little list of words was getting longer and longer. After he lingered a moment longer, he heard the door to the basement open again, and immediately flipped the next empty page.

“Found it,” TJ announced, plopping down next to Cyrus. He acted as if nothing had happened earlier, scrawling in his journal. Cyrus shook his head gently, starting his own entry.

_6/11_

_Today I went to TJ’s house for a sleepover, with Jonah, Walker, Amber, and Andi. We were playing in the basement with Legos, and_

Cyrus paused, tapping his pen on the paper. He wasn’t sure if he had the right to talk about what TJ has told him. Against his better judgement, he tried to discreetly glance over at TJ’s paper, but he could only make out a few words.

_. . .Cyrus came. . .and then. . .but it was okay. . .Legos. . .should tell him. . .kinda cute. . ._

Cyrus gulped, immediately averting his attention back to his own paper and writing down words, but his mind was somewhere else. What could ‘cute’ be referring to? _Probably Amber and Andi_ , he thought, smiling to himself as he finished his entry.

_and we talked again, about more serious things. I think this assignment is bringing us closer to each other, and I really like that. It’s nice to have someone you can trust with pretty much anything. I think we’re gonna watch a movie and then probably play some cliche sleepover game. Whatever we do, it’s gonna be fun._

Shutting his journal, he placed it and his pen back into his bag, and waited a little for TJ to finish.

“So,” TJ broke the silence, snapping his journal shut and putting it on the shelf, “do you wanna watch a movie? I have a bunch of them,” he offered, pulling out a box from next to the TV and sifting through the DVDs.

“Oh, Mean Girls!” Cyrus clapped his hands together, before clearing his head and shrugging, “I mean, Mean Girls is pretty good, if you wanted to watch it,” he murmured, trying to lean against the wall but nearly slipping and falling.

TJ laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s a good movie,” he agreed, “I’m gonna get changed into my pajamas first. You can change in the bathroom over there,” he pointed down the small hallway, before going back upstairs.

Cyrus opened the door to the bathroom, shutting it softly behind him, and turned on the lights. The bathroom was everything he did not expect from the Kippen household. The tiles were so colorful, it almost made his eyes hurt, and there was a small candle burning on the sink. Oceanside, it said. Cyrus, being the ever careful person that he was, blew out the candle (it could be a fire hazard!). He quickly changed into his pajamas; a pair of dinosaur sweatpants he’d bought at the museum a few months back, and a yellow t-shirt that was a few sizes too big for him. Opening the door and shutting off the lights, he made his way to the couch.

* * *

 

“That’s Damian, he’s almost too gay to function,”

“The best line in the entire movie,” Cyrus mumbled, stuffing another handful of popcorn into his mouth. He could feel his eyelids start to droop, but he willed himself to stay awake. His head fell onto TJ’s shoulder after a little while, his blinks becoming slower and slower.

TJ’s phone buzzed beside him, and he gingerly reached out to grab it, making sure not to stir Cyrus.

**[frisbee boi: walker and i left, just a heads up, we’re goin to the movies]**

TJ smirked, sending back a quick text.

**[Me: drive safe, dont gross everyone out by being cute]**

Placing his phone on the other side of the couch, he quietly nudges Cyrus. “Cyrus,” he whispered, “c’mon we have to go to bed on, like, an actual bed,”

Cyrus just groaned beside him, half asleep. He turned and nuzzled into TJ’s chest, his own chest rising and falling slowly.

“Fine,” TJ mumbled, grabbing a blanket and throwing it over them. He took a few moments to just look at Cyrus, taking in all the details; the little mole by his mouth, a little triangle of freckles by his nose, his long eyelashes. He was, in short, breathtaking.

“I like you so much, you know,” TJ whispered, almost inaudibly, “you’re the best thing in my life,”

Cyrus puffed out a big breath, one arm draping over TJ’s chest, a faint smile on his face.

“Good night, Cy,”

* * *

 

The following morning, Cyrus awoke to the sound of snoring. Blinking his eyes a few times, he stretched his arms until he hit something, or rather someone. He nearly screamed when he saw TJ, scrambling to pry himself off of him, heart beating out of his chest. Memories of last night ran through his head; sleepover, Legos, Mean Girls. . .that was all he could remember. He must have fallen asleep, and TJ didn’t bother to move him.

As if he could feel Cyrus thinking about him, TJ started to stir, outstretching his limbs and then collapsing back onto the couch. “Morning, Underdog,” he mumbled, voice still thick with fatigue, “what time is it?”

Cyrus grabbed the nearest phone, which happened to be TJ’s, and checked. “It’s almost ten thir-you have a picture of us as your lock screen?”

That seemed to wake TJ right up. “Oh. . .yeah, I, well I thought I looked really good in it,” he lied, pretending to yawn.

Cyrus rolled his eyes, seeming to believe TJ’s response. “Gotta feed your ego,” he joked, “speaking of feed, breakfast?”

“Oh, yeah,” TJ mumbled, tearing off the blanket and tossing it to the side, “you up for making pancakes?

* * *

 

Thirty minutes later, TJ and Cyrus found themselves making pancakes not only for each other, but for Andi and Amber too. They ended up having to make a second batch, but TJ wouldn’t trade his time with Cyrus for anything.

“Got any sprinkles?” Cyrus asked, sifting through the cabinets.

“Second shelf towards the right,” TJ’s mom replied, gently padding down the stairs, “how did you boys sleep?”

“Great, thank you so much for having me again, Mrs. Kippen,” Cyrus replied, finding the small container of rainbow sprinkles.

“My pleasure,” she replied, heading towards the coffee machine to make her morning drink.

“Now I can make my coffee extra gay,” Cyrus joked, sprinkling a handful of the sugary goodness into his pancakes, “like me,” he laughed, tossing his head back. The kind of laughter that makes TJ dizzy with admiration.

“Gotta have the daily dose of rainbow,” TJ played along, flipping them over and putting a few onto the plate, “for you,”

“Thank you,” he smiled, grabbing a fork, after sifting through several drawers, “these smell amazing,”

“My mom’s recipe,” TJ credited, giving her a nod, to which she plastered on a smile as a response, stirring sugar into her coffee.

“Do you think I could take these with me to go? My mom’s expecting me so we can go to the water park with our cousins,” he sighed, grabbing a paper towel and putting the pancakes in them.

“No problem. I’ll get your bag from downstairs,” TJ offered, heading back down into the basement. He felt a small pang of guilt, leaving Cyrus alone with his mother, but it was only going to be for a few minutes. Grabbing Cyrus’ bag, he stopped for a moment; the Legos were still in a pile on the floor. Smiling to himself, he plucked out a little man, and slipped it into Cyrus’ bag, before coming up the stairs.

“Well it’s nice that you two are working together,” he heard his mom say, shutting the door.

“Here you go,” he said, handing Cyrus his bag, “I’ll text you later?”

Cyrus nodded, making his way to the door. “I’ll text you when we get back,” he promised, slipping on his shoes, and putting his hand on the door, “thank you for inviting me. I had a great time,”

TJ thought he was going to melt at the site of Cyrus’ smile. “Of course, anytime,”

With one last wave, Cyrus crossed the threshold and headed to his car, where he loaded in his bag, and drove away.

“So,” TJ said after shutting the door, “How was the meeting with the board?”

His mom didn’t answer, instead focusing her gaze on her coffee. “Cyrus is,” she hesitated, almost afraid to say anything, “well, he’s, you know. . .gay,”

TJ quirked a brow, grabbing a bottle of water out of the pantry. “Uh, yeah?” he said, taking a few sips.

“Mm,” she hummed, pursing her lips together, “and so you and him are. . .”

TJ nearly choked on his drink, coughing a few times to clear his throat. “No, mom, we’re not dating,” he groaned, his lips threatening to turn into a frown.

“Honey, I-I don’t think you should hang out with you anymore,”

That hit him like a ton of bricks, effectively knocking the air right out of his lungs. _What?_ “What? Why?”

“You know the Bible—“

And at that TJ tuned her out. “Mom, the Bible also said that we can’t wear different fabrics, or eat shrimp, or work on Sundays. Why is this different?”

“Don’t give me that tone,” she insisted, taking a sip of her coffee, “it just is, TJ. I don’t want him to. . .turn you gay,”

TJ rolled his eyes so hard he thought they might get stuck back there. “That’s not fair, mom. Cyrus is my best friend,”

His mom shook her head, setting her cup down. “It’s against what we believe, TJ,” she reminded him, crossing her arms.

 _Yeah, ‘we’_ , TJ thought. “Fine. Guess I’ll just go sit in my room all day,” he huffed, turning on his heel and marching up the stairs.

“Don’t you stomp up the stairs!” he heard his mom call, but in vain. He entered his room and slammed the door shut, sliding down the door. He took a few moments to try and compose himself, letting the anger leave his body. The idea of not being able to hang out with Cyrus absolutely killed him; it was the worst punishment imaginable.

**[Underdog <3: the pancakes were AMAZING thank u so much!!]**

A tiny ray of hope bloomed in his heart, bringing a smile to his face.

**[Me: glad you liked them ;) have fun at the water park]**

He pocketed his phone, but not before it buzzed again.

**[andi’s girlfriend: i heard you slam the door are things okay?]**

**[Me: homophobia at its finest downstairs]**

**[andi’s girlfriend: :( wanna talk about it?]**

**[Me: maybe later. how are u and andi?]**

**[andi’s girlfriend: yeah...about that]**

**[Me: what happened???]**

**[andi’s girlfriend: we kinda sorta. . .broke up]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, you're mad at me. Yell to me about it on tumblr @you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus


	6. Dystychiphobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dystychiphobia (n.): fear of becoming emotionally attached or falling in love

The sound of some kids arguing outside woke TJ from his nap. He groaned, rubbing his neck and stretching out his legs. He reached for his phone, unlocking it, and displaying Amber’s texts again.

“Shit,” he whispered to himself, scrambling to get up. He tore his room apart trying to find tissues, nearly breaking the lamp by his bedside and the photo frame of him and Amber. Eventually, he did find a small pack of tissues, crammed between a math textbook and a couple of CDs. Stuffing them in his pocket, he left his room and gently knocked on Amber’s door. He noticed that the picture of her and Andi was no longer on her door.

The door creaked open, and TJ took a step inside. Amber shut the door, but all he could see was her blonde hair, up in a bun that was falling apart. When she turned around, he could hear his heart break, feeling physical pain for his sister. Sure, she got on his nerves sometimes, but when push came to shove, he would do anything for her.

“I brought tissues,” he offered, pulling out a crumpled bag of them from his pocket, “looks like you could use them,” he noted, earning an eye roll.

“Thanks. I truly am at my strongest,” she groaned, taking them from his hand and blotting at her eyes, “sit,”

They both took a seat by her door, with TJ’s hand wrapped around her shoulders, occasionally telling her things were going to be okay. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try and force anything out of her.

“You know, for a guy, you know how to comfort someone,” she stated, leaning her head against his shoulder, “it’s weird,”

He shrugged, tracing his finger along the wooden grooves of the floor. “Cyrus’ hamster died a few months ago, and he was devastated. Naturally I brought him napkins and chocolate to help him cope,” he supplied, a smile ghosting his lips.

“Aw, you’ve been smitten for so long,” Amber cooed, drawing in a breath, “tell me more,”

TJ shook his head. “Nope, we’re not here to listen to me talk about him. I’m here to listen to you,”

She clamped her mouth down, shutting her eyes for a moment and allowing a few loose tears to trickle down her cheeks. _God_ , she really didn’t think she could do this. Everything was so fresh, and with every thought of Andi, it felt like she was dumping salt into the wound.

“So. . .you and Andi?”

Amber nodded, pulling her knees into her chest and resting her chin on her knees. “I thought things were going really great, you know. We went on a second date, third, fourth,” she reminisced, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment, “I guess it was going a little _too_ great,”

TJ drew up his brows. “How can things be going too great? Did she tell you she loves you and you were weirded out?”

Amber shook her head, exhaling shakily. “No, she. . .she told her parents about us,” she gestured vaguely to herself, “and she was like ‘they’re cool about it, they support us’, and I just,” she shook her head, a choked back sob erupting from her core, “I freaked out, I-I didn’t know what to do,”

TJ listened intently, offering her tissues as she spoke.

“And-and I _tried_ to tell her that I wished she didn’t tell them, or at the very least she consulted me beforehand, because I’m not out,” she whimpered, her trembling hands swiping at her tears, “and then she was like ‘It’s not that big of a deal, Amber’ and I tried to tell her that, yeah, maybe not for _her_ , but I have no _idea_ how my mom would react if she found out,” she rambled, crying into her small pile of tissues, “and then there was just. . .more fighting about that, and at some point she said ‘Well if you’re so mad at me, maybe we should just break up’,” she paused, another sob escaping her lips, “and then. . .she left, and I was alone. Then you texted me,”

“Amber,” TJ murmured, rubbing soft circles into her back, “. . .would this be a bad time to tell you that mom told me to stop hanging out with Cyrus because he’s gay?”

Amber tore her head off of her brother’s shoulder, looking at him with widened eyes. “He’s _gay_? Called it,” she muttered under her breath.

TJ slapped his hand on his forehead, shaking his head. “Shoot, wait, forget I said that. I don’t think he wanted other people to know, please forget I ever said anything,” he pleaded.

She dragged two fingers across her lips, flicking an imaginary key away. TJ exhaled, slumping back against the door.

“So. . .you and Cyrus?”

TJ groaned, grabbing a pillow from off Amber’s bed and pressing it into his face. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” he pouted, his words muffled by the pillow.

Amber nodded, tugging the pillow away from his face and tossed it back onto her bed. “We should do something to clear our heads,” she decided, standing up, “wanna go for a walk in the park?”

TJ sighed, running his hands through his hair. “Yeah, sure. Beats just sitting here and moping,”

Amber tossed her tissues into the garbage can by her desk, and fanned her face with her hands. “That’s the spirit. . .almost,” she chuckled, “does my face look all red and blotchy.

 _Yes_. “No, you look fine,” he lied, “but wear a baseball cap, maybe,”

She stuck her tongue out in response, hands on her hips. “I don’t own one. Give me one of yours,”

TJ put his hands up, walking to his room. “Pushy, pushy,” he laughed softly, opening the door to his room and sifting through his clothes for a cap. He eventually found a yellow one with, near his journal. He paused for a moment, his fingers gliding over the spine of it.

“TJ, what’s taking so long?”

Slipping the journal and a pen into his pocket, he swiped the cap and shut his door. “I was just looking for one that didn’t scream heterosexuality,” he joked, tossing her the hat.

“Much appreciated,” she smiled, putting it on her head, and heading downstairs, TJ following close behind her, “shouldn’t we tell mom we’re heading out?”

TJ marinated on this for a moment. On the one hand he didn’t want to drive another wedge between him and his mom after the events of the morning. On the other hand, why should his mom know about his whereabouts every second of every day?

“Nah,” he decided, “let’s just go. I doubt she’d even notice I’m gone,”

* * *

 

“It’s gonna be okay. I swear nothing that they said was true. You’re everything to me,” Walker cooed, pressing his forehead to Jonah’s.

“But. . .what if it was?” Jonah whispered, his gaze down in his lap, “what if you’re going to leave me for someone else?”

Walker cupped Jonah’s face, smiling softly. “I’d never do that, you know. I’m. . .I’m so in love with you,” he whispered against his skin, bringing his lips up to the other boy’s nose.

“And, cut!” Cyrus called, “you _guys_ that was amazing! Thank you so much for helping me with this. I think my film teacher is really gonna appreciate it,” he beamed, “oh and uh, sorry for crashing your date,” he added sheepishly.

“Anything for you, Cy,” Jonah assured him, lacing his hand with Walker’s.

“I’ll leave you two be,” Cyrus waved, walking away from the couple.

“You know, I really _am_ in love with you,” Walker admitted, rubbing Jonah’s hand with his thumb.

Jonah’s face lit up, his eyes starting to brim with tears. “You’re too sweet, you know,”

Walker shrugged, leaning his head on Jonah’s shoulder. “I know,”

* * *

 

“Just carry it,” Amber whined, dangling the hat on her finger towards her brother, “My face looks fine now and I don’t wanna wear it,”

TJ rolled his eyes, putting the hat backwards on his head and letting some of his hair stick out of the little hole. “The things I do for you,” he fake sighed, shaking his head like a parent, “wanna get ice cream?”

Amber nodded, and the two of them rushed to the small stand, ordering a chocolate for TJ and strawberry for Amber. TJ payed for them both, being the parent of a brother that he is, and

Amber squinted into the distance, her hand on her forehead. “Is that Cyrus?”

“Ha ha, very funny,” TJ mused, crossing his arms, “you can’t just change the subject like that. Plus I thought we were going for a wa--”

“No, _look_ ,” Amber insisted, slapping his arm a few times and pointing to a boy in the distance, waving his arm.

“I hate this damn universe,” he muttered through gritted teeth, “don’t say anything embarrassing,”

Amber gasped, putting her free hand on her chest dramatically. “Me? Say something to embarrass you in front of _Cyrus_ , the boy you have a painful crush on? Never,”

TJ rolled his eyes, finishing off his ice cream and rubbing his hands on his pants. “Underdog?”

“TJ, hey!” Cyrus called, jogging towards him, “funny seeing you here. Hey Amber,”

Amber gave a nod as an answer, focusing instead on her ice cream. “I think I’m gonna take a walk. Clear my head,” she announced, pivoting on her foot and awkwardly shuffled away behind a tree. She pressed her back behind the tree, silently giggling to herself. And TJ, ever distracted with Cyrus in front of him, didn’t notice.

“Wanna sit?” Cyrus offered, pointing to the bench by the ice cream stand.

TJ nods, following him and taking a seat.They’re both quiet for a while, TJ finishing off his ice cream in silence and tossing it in the garbage can like the basketball player that he is.

“Nice shot,” Cyrus complimented, golf-clapping.

TJ laughed, taking a quick bow before sitting back down. “What are you doing here?” he asks, “not like, why are you sitting here with me, but like, why are you at the park?”

Cyrus shrugged, crossing his legs. “I just needed some air,” he replied, turning his head towards TJ, “what about you?”

“Amber was-” TJ started, cutting himself. It wasn’t his place to talk about Amber’s love life, or lack thereof. “. . .was feeling down,” he finished. It wasn’t a complete lie; it just wasn’t the entire truth.

Cyrus nodded wisely, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check the time. “Yeah, she and Andi broke up,”

TJ choked on his own spit, going into a coughing fit for what felt like forever. “What?” he choked out between coughs, “How did _you_ know that?

“Andi told me,” Cyrus explained, “well, she texted me, rather, with about a thousand emojis. She told me that she was sorry about it, but that she still really liked Amber, but she wasn’t sure how they were going to fix this,” he paused for a moment, shaking his head, “girls. You must know about all the drama that comes with dating them,”

TJ almost started laughing, but managed to cover that up with a cough. “Oh, yeah, you know me,” he lied, “the drama is just. . .dramatic,”

Cyrus smiled, intertwining his fingers together. “Relationships are,” he muttered, flailing his arms around wildly, “you feel?”

TJ chuckled, leaning his arms back on the bench. “Yeah, I feel that,” he agreed, “not even, like, _relationship_ relationships, but like. . .friends too,”

Cyrus nodded, drumming his fingers on the handle of the bench. “I know what you mean. I, at least I think, trust pretty easily. It doesn’t take a whole lot for me to let someone into my life,” he admitted, shaking his head lightly, “which I’ll admit, is pretty naïve of me, but,” he shrugged, “c’est la vie,”

TJ pulled up one of his feet to rest on the bench. “I’m, like, the complete opposite. You know, pretty closed off to most people, and if people try to wriggle their way in, I try to keep ‘em out,” he admitted, chuckling lightly, “it’s like I’ve always been. . .afraid, I guess, of getting emotionally attached to people, romantically or otherwise. Not wanting to get hurt, and stuff,” he muttered, chewing on his lower lip. Leave it to Cyrus to just exist and make TJ babble on and on about personal details.

Cyrus nodded in response, reaching into his pockets for his phone again and quickly typing something down in his notes. “I’m listening, I just don’t want to forget this. . .idea,”

_what do you call it when someone is scared of becoming emotionally attached_

TJ nodded, instead focusing his gaze on the leaves gently flowing in the breeze, while Cyrus hastily typed out the word ‘philophobia’.

“So, where were we?” Cyrus asked, pocketing his phone.

“We-”

“Hey, guys!” Amber squealed, popping out from behind the tree, a wide smile on her face, “ready to go TJ?”

TJ opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out. Instead, Amber reached for his hand and started tugging him away towards the entrance. “It was really nice seeing you Cyrus,” she said hurriedly, dragging TJ with her.

“Bye, I guess,” he managed to get out, his words sounding more like a garbled mess than actual English. He saw Cyrus give him a small wave before turning back around.

“What the _hell_ Amber?” he hissed, yanking his hand away, “what was that for?”

She shrugged, twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers. “I got bored standing behind the tree,”

He glared at her, dumbfounded. “Are you telling me that you _literally_ dragged me away from Cyrus because you couldn’t find something to do?”

“Look,” Amber huffed, “it was getting both boring and painful watching you two basically flirt with each other in front of me,” she admitted, the two of them making a left.

“I-we, weren’t,” he stammered, the tips of his ears going bright red, “flirting” he grumbled, pinching his nose with his fingers and nearly running into a fire hydrant.

“Right, of _course_ not, says the girl who’s actually been in a relationship,” she poked him repeatedly, “I’m right and you know it,”

“Sure, says the girl who is no longer in a relationship,” he snapped, his words biting. Amber stopped poking him, her arms crossed, her figure hunched over, “shit, sorry. Touchy subject,” he muttered, squinting his eyes to avoid the setting sun. They walked for a few moments in silence, making TJ worry that he’d overstepped the boundaries. Amber started walking a little faster, and he had to take longer strides to keep up with her. At some point, it looked like she was almost running, her awkward strides not quite walking pace but not quite running.

This was going to be a longer day than he hoped.

* * *

 

After what felt like the most awkward combination of running and walking, TJ and Amber arrived back home, the front door lights on. Amber was first through, followed by TJ behind her.

“Where on _earth_ were you guys?” their mom shrieked, storming into the hallway, “I was worried sick,”

“Could have called or texted,” TJ muttered, slipping off his shoes.

“Don’t give me that tone,” she warned with a finger, “where were you two?”

TJ and Amber exchanged glances, and it seemed like for a moment, Amber’s face softened.

“Nowhere,” the replied in unison, both now with small smiles on their faces.

Their mother rolled her eyes, running a tired hand through her hair. “You know that’s the response kids usually give when they were somewhere they shouldn’t be,” she reminded them, raising a brow, “you weren’t with that, kid, what’s his name?”

“Cyrus,” Amber supplied, pulling her hair into a bun.

“. . .Yeah,” she replied, her gaze fixated on TJ, “you weren’t with him after I _specifically_ told you not to?”

TJ lost all ability to speak or form coherent sentences. All he could think about was how if his mom found out, he would never get to be with Cyrus ever again. “I-uh, well, we-”

“-TJ and I went for a walk in the park, actually,” Amber piped up, rocking back on her heels, “yeah, we went for a walk because I was upset because I broke-” TJ lightly elbowed her side, clearing his throat, “uh, because I broke. . .my nail, and I had just done them,” she finished, giving him a look that screamed ‘ _you’re damn welcome_ ’.

Their mom raised a brow at this, cautiously eyeing Amber’s nails, who tucked them in her pockets. “Mhm,” she hummed to herself, waving them off, “okay. Well, next time, tell me when you go somewhere,” she muttered, walking upstairs towards her room.

When they heard the door shut, both teens exhaled a sigh of relief. TJ leaned against the wall, his breath coming in quick, shaky bursts.

“You owe me big time,” Amber whispered, taking off her shoes, “I’m writing this down so I don’t forget,” she added, heading for the stairs.

“Wait,” TJ said, nodding towards the basement, “uhm. . .Legos?”

Amber cracked a smile, hopping off of the step. “We haven’t done that since,” she started, choosing her words carefully, “since we were little,”

“I know,” he replied, opening the door, “but I think it’s a good time for that now, since. . .you know,”

Amber followed him down the stairs, eyeing the pile of Legos on the floor. “I can see you’ve been up to something lately,” she noted, “trying to save the galaxy from,” she squinted, “my Barbies?”

TJ chuckled, taking a seat and running a finger through the pile of Legos. “Nah. Cyrus and I were playing with these last night,” he admitted, toying with a man in his hand.

Amber raised a brow, taking a seat by him and crossing her legs. “Oh? Spill,”

TJ rolled his eyes, separating pieces from each other mindlessly. “Nothing much to say. We just kinda talked. Conversation flows pretty easily with him. Like I say things that I would never normally say,” he admitted, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Oooh, someone’s smitten,” Amber cooed, ruffling his hair, “tell me,” she whined, pouting.

TJ crossed his arms, staring her down. “I’m going to tell you because of my own free will and not because you’d pouting and annoying me,” he announced

Amber clapped her hands together, propping up her head with her hands. “Go,”

“We talked about. . .dad,” he murmured, “well I didn’t start with that. We talked about Legos and how he used to play with them before his parents divorced. And I. . .I had just this impulse to talk about dad, I guess. Maybe to show him that I, like, sort of know how he feels?” he groaned, screwing his eyes shut and putting his head in his hands, “why am I like this?”

Amber put a hand on his shoulder. “Because he’s important to you, idiot. And you’re important to him, you know,”

TJ looked up and glared at her. “We’re friends, Amber. That’s what they do. They support each other when things are crap, and listen,” he muttered.

“Whatever you say,” she shrugged, “so, are we gonna build something?” she asked, hopping up to grab the box of various instructions, “Golden Gate Bridge, Disney Castle. . .”

“Disney Castle,” he chose, “we all need a little magic, right?”

Amber smiled, putting the rest of them away. “That’s the spirit,”

The two of them worked through the packet until Amber fell asleep at around 1 in the morning. TJ, ever the one for completing tasks, continued to build until he thought was going to pass out on top of it out of fatigue. Groggily, he tugged on a blanket and threw it on top of Amber, careful not to knock over their castle in the making. He checked the clock before going to bed.

_3:56 AM_

_1 new message at 2:08 AM_

**[mr the party: u shld meet me n buffy tmrw @ 12 4 bball. u can bring cyrus :-*]**

**[Me: i hate you, you know. but to see you lose? you’re on]**

With that, he yanked another blanket off of the couch and shut his eyes. He couldn’t fall asleep for a little while because he was thinking of a certain brown-haired, muffin-loving boy, but that was just alright with him.


	7. Mamihlapinatapai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mamihlapinatapai (n.): a look shared by two people, each wishing that that other would initiate something that they both desire but which neither wants to begin

“I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while,” Cyrus started, gazing up with his warm eyes, “I like you so much TJ, TJ, TJ . . .TJ. . .

“TJ!”

“What?” TJ snapped awake, his leg involuntarily kicking the castle in front of him, “oh,” he muttered, upon seeing Amber in front of him.

She looked at him knowingly, pushing the pieces from the broken castle aside. “You had that dream again didn’t you,” she stated simply.

Groaning, TJ flopped back down, rubbing his eyes with his hands. “Leave me alone to sleep,” he muttered, pulling the blanket on top of his head.

“It’s like half-past noon, TJ, I’m not going to let you-”

“-wait what?” he pushed the blanket aside, scrambling to find his phone, “did you say half past noon?”

“Yeah?” Amber questioned, looking between her brother and the clock on the wall, “why? You’re late for a date with Cyrus?” she joked, heading back up the stairs.

“Not the time!” she could hear TJ call as he frantically rushed to tear off his pajama pants and slip on some shorts. “Crap,” he muttered to himself, grabbing his phone and headphones and rushing up the stairs. He slipped on sneakers, and quickly left the house, running down the sidewalk towards the basketball court. All he could hear was the quickening of his breath and his feet pounding the pavement. He could barely start to make out the trees around the court when he remembered.

His journal. It wasn’t in his pockets, and he knew he was probably going to need it today. Exhaling a frustrated breath, he started jogging back home, realizing that he was probably going to lose to Marty if he kept up at this rate.

* * *

 

Before he went inside, he took a moment to compose himself. He had a plan; walk in, grab the journal, leave. He took one step inside and was greeted by his mother, holding his journal in her hand.

_His journal._

The one where he wrote about Cyrus and how much fun it was to be around him. He could feel his throat seizing up, breathing now becoming the second most important thing. The first was getting that journal into his hand.

* * *

 

“What’s this?” she asked, her voice low and quiet. That usually meant she knew something, but she was waiting for TJ to tell her what it was.

“My. . .journal,” he choked out, “for my journalism class,” he added. He felt like he was going to faint, each word taking an immense amount of effort. Dizziness overcame him, and he had to casually lean on the wall for stability.

“Hm,” she hummed, flicking mindlessly through the first few pages, “there’s a lot about. . .that kid in here,” she noted, her tone with a bit of a bite to it. TJ felt like he was going to be sick.

“We’re partners,” he breathed out, swallowing thickly, his hands starting to tremble against the wall, “and . . . we write about the day’s activities. I, uh, I’m going to shoot hoops with Marty, so can I,” he gestured vaguely to where she was standing.

She stared at him for a moment, her tired eyes trying to read him, but his gaze was on the small book in her hand. “Just,” she paused, extending her arm out, “be careful around him,”

“Yup,” he squeaked out, swiping the journal from her grasp and running out the door, regaining a sense of relaxation. The nausea that came with being around his mom whenever Cyrus was concerned slowly eased away. Again, he ran down the sidewalk, the familiar sight of the trees in the distance putting him at ease. As he pulled up to the court, he took a second to catch his breath before waltzing out with as much confidence as he could muster.

“Kippen, where’ve you been?” Marty asked him, “it’s,” he looked at his watch, “almost one in the afternoon,”

“You missed me whooping his ass,” Buffy piped up, poking his side gently, to which Marty burst out in a fit of giggles, pushing her away.

“I wouldn’t use that terminology. More like, you slightly edged me out, but only because the sun was in my eyes,” he defended, crossing his arms.

“Right,” Buffy mumbled, looking at TJ like he was a camera on The Office, “so, long night?”

TJ nodded. “I went to bed kinda late last night, almost 4 I think? I just. . .couldn’t sleep,” he lied, grabbing the basketball from Buffy’s feet and dribbling it absentmindedly.

“Something on your mind?” Buffy prodded, breaking out into a full grin.

“. . .something like that,” TJ muttered, shaking his head slightly, “so, how are your journals coming along? Considering you spend every moment attached at the hip,” he mused, twirling the ball in his hand.

“Pretty good,” Marty supplied, pushing his hair back, “We already have a bunch of entries in there and a ton of pictures,” he chuckled, giving Buffy a look, “how about you?”

“Oh it’s. . .great,” he lied, nodding, “it’s been fun, hanging out with Cyrus and, like, actually doing things. Makes the summer go by a little faster,”

Marty nodded in acknowledgement, taking the ball from TJ. “Did you invite Cyrus to come watch us play?”

TJ shook his head. “It completely slipped my mind, considering I slept in,”

“We should all go to the Spoon for lunch, then,” Buffy suggested, “you can invite Cyrus,” she added, waggling her brows.

“You’re being weird,” TJ groaned, pulling out his phone to text him, “but yeah, I’m in. I didn’t have breakfast so I could use something,”

**[Me: hey do you wanna go to the spoon w/ buffy and marty?]**

The text back was almost immediate.

**[Underdog <3: i’m actually omw there rn! I’ll meet up with u guys]**

“He’s already heading there,” TJ informed them, following behind them. Marty had taken Buffy’s hand and was now swinging it. If he strained, he could just make out Buffy’s blush when she turned towards her boyfriend. He sighed, popping in his headphones and turning on his music loud enough to block out everything else that was happening. TJ seemed to be doing a lot of that lately, trying to block out everything and create an instrumental barrier for himself. His mom had told him that it ‘wasn’t healthy for someone to block things out with music’. She acted as though he was addicted to it like a drug, which, in retrospect, he probably was. And it wasn’t hurting anyone, unless you counted that one time that he flailed his arms so hard he’d hit Amber.

There was this persistent sound though, that didn’t mesh with his music. Glancing up he say Buffy saying something or rather mouthing something, since he couldn’t really make out what she was saying.

“Huh?” he said, pulling out one earbud.

“I said Cyrus is waiting inside,” she pointed inside to a table where Cyrus was sitting and chatting with one of the waiters.

TJ paused his music, taking out both of his earbuds and putting them in his pocket. “Oh, right,” he murmured, carding his fingers through his hair. Marty held the door for him, briefly taking note of TJ’s expression. He met his gaze for a split second, but looked away immediately.

* * *

 

“Okay, no you did not kick my a-”

“-I so did! You’re just denying it beca-”

“-that’s a lie and you know it!”

That’s how things went for a while. Buffy and Marty tried to catch Cyrus up with what happened on the court, but they kept getting bogged down in details, so the story hardly progressed. Cyrus looked as though someone was telling him directions in a foreign language. His face portrayed that yes, he was listening, but no, he had no idea what was happening.

Luckily, the waiter came back during one of their arguments and brought them their food; two large orders of baby taters, two vanilla milkshakes, one strawberry, and one chocolate.

“I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t get at least half of that,” he admitted, dipping a tater into the chocolate shake, “but I swear I was paying attention and there was indeed some basketball terminology in there,”

Buffy shook her head, taking a long sip of her strawberry milkshake. “In short, I kicked his ass,”

“Language,” he muttered, playing with the straw mindlessly.

Buffy snorted, effectively spilling some of her shake on her. “I’ll get some extra napkins,” Marty said, scooting out of the booth and going to find some napkins.

“I’m gonna try and clean up in the bathroom,” Buffy grumbled, “on one of my favorite shirts too,” she whined, excusing herself to go to the bathroom

Cyrus drummed his fingers on the table, taking a small sip of his shake. “So, how was the rest of your yesterday after I left?” he asked, putting his hands in his lap.

TJ shrugged, taking a sip of his vanilla shake as if to clear his throat. “It was alright. After we left the park, Amber and I went into the basement and built, like, this insanely cool castle from a Lego set we had years ago, just to kind of clear her head with the whole,” he lowered his voice, almost scouting the establishment, “breakup. And I didn’t fall asleep till late, like really late, so I was late to go and shoot hoops with Marty and Buffy because I forgot my journal at home and my mom-” he paused, popping a tater in his mouth to buy himself time to find the right words.

“. . .my mom gave it to me, and then I had to run to the courts, but I’d already missed Marty and Buffy playing and then they asked me if I wanted to go to the Spoon for lunch because I didn’t have breakfast and then they asked me if I wanted to invite you and-”

He stopped for a breath, but once he met Cyrus’ eyes, it was like a computer virus had overridden his brain. All he could think about was how _beautiful_ Cyrus was from this distance, and how much more beautiful he probably was when he was a little closer. And yeah, he knew he was staring, but Cyrus didn’t break the gaze, so neither did TJ.

And by some universal, and probably magical, force TJ could feel himself moving forward, ever so slightly. For a split second, his gaze flicked to Cyrus’ lips before quickly returning to his eyes. Gosh, he could stare at them forever, and in that moment, it felt like they were in a little bubble. It almost looked as if Cyrus was getting a little closer too, although that could have been TJ’s imagination. He didn’t flinch, he just held the gaze, as if he was waiting for something to happen, waiting for someone to initiate something.

“My shirt’s all wet, I need napkins, Marty!” Buffy’s voice shattered whatever moment was building between the two of them. They immediately jumped back, hearts beating like a rabbit’s, and sat as far away as possible on the booth seat. It was as though they’d been touched by fire, their bodies burned. TJ could hear his blood thump in his ears, and Cyrus felt as though he’d just been jump scared.

“For my lady,” Marty presented the napkins like a knight, bowing down slightly, “to help with. . .that,”

Buffy smirked, giving him a quick peck on the cheek and graciously accepting the napkins. “Why thank you,” she chuckled, sliding into the booth with Marty and looking across at the other boys.

“Something’s off,” Marty mouthed to her, looking between TJ and Cyrus, then back at Buffy, “we’ll I’m hungry,” he blurted out, grabbing a few tater tots and munching on them.

“Oh yeah, me too,” Buffy quickly jumped in taking a loud sip of her milkshake. Cyrus barely picked at the taters, rolling one around in his hand instead. TJ moved his straw up and down in his glass, his gaze occasionally flitting to the empty basket of baby taters. Marty and Buffy tried to make banter, but only one word answers from both boys.

“I think. . .I’m gonna go shoot some hoops,” Marty decided, dropping a few crumpled bills on the table, “TJ, you wanna come with?”

He nodded silently, pulling out a few dollar bills and setting them on the table. “See you guys later,” he said, giving Buffy a nod before heading out the door. Once he was out of earshot, Buffy leaned her body against the table.

“What was that?” she hissed, looking at Cyrus with wide eyes.

Cyrus shrugged nonchalantly, breaking a tater in half. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he lied, “nothing’s going on between me and TJ,”

Buffy opened her mouth to say something, but clamped it down, breaking into a mischievous grin. “I didn’t say that there was anything going on between you and TJ. You did,”

Cyrus felt his face go hot, and opted for taking a few sips of his milkshake. “Whatever, you were implying it and you know it,” he grumbled, crossing his arms.

“Aw, you’re so cute when you’re smitten,” she teased, sipping her shake.

Cyrus nearly choked on his drink, coughing and sputtering to try and regain his composure. “I’m not ‘smitten’,” he choked out, tears budding from the corners of his eyes from hacking up his lungs.

“Hm, fine,” she sighed, dipping a tater in her milkshake, but dropping it accidentally, “crap,” she groaned.

“That’s what you get for being nosy,” Cyrus scolded playfully, sticking his tongue out in retaliation.

Buffy rolled her eyes, grabbing another tater. “But come don’t you think that he, you know,” she waved her hands a little, grabbing a second tater tot, “likes you?”

Cyrus snorted, shaking his head and leaning his arms back against the booth. “You’re delusional, Buff,” he chided, “hate to break it to you, but TJ’s as straight as Iris’ hair,”

Buffy pursed her lips, drumming her fingers on the table. “More like as straight as my hair,” she muttered, popping both taters in her mouth.

Tired of the topic, Cyrus pulled out his journal and started writing for his journalism class. It was at least _some_ sort of distraction.

_6/12_

_Today I spent part of my morning working on my homework for the summer. Towards the middle of the afternoon, TJ and I, along with Buffy and Marty, went to the Spoon for lunch. We--_

Buffy craned her neck to try and read what he was writing, but Cyrus immediately shut his journal, putting it under his leg. “I saw TJ,” she said in a sing-song manner, raising her brows.

“We are literally partners for this assignment,” he deadpanned, finishing off his milkshake, and pulling out enough money to pay for both their meals, “I got it, but you gotta stop bugging me about T-”

“Hold that thought,” she muttered, her phone buzzing in her pocket, “Marty’s taking me to a movie for a date tonight,” she cheered, smiling down at her phone and firing back a text, “I swear I won’t bug you about him for,” she paused, “the rest of the week,” she decided, slipping out of the booth and towards the door, “bye Cy!”

Cyrus gave her a salute as a goodbye, and once she was gone, he pulled out his journal again to finish writing his entry.

_We had the usual, baby taters and milkshakes. Buffy spilled some of hers so Marty went to get her extra napkins while she tried to wash up in the bathroom. So it was just me and TJ for a little while and_

He stopped, carding his hand through his hair. What was he supposed to write? That they stared at each other for a little while and then stopped?

_and then Marty and Buffy came back. We all ate, and then TJ and Marty left to play basketball, so it was just me and Buffy for bit. We talked about_

Another groan, another hand rubbing his eyes.

_about our friends for a little bit. Then she got a text from Marty that they were going to go to the movies on a date. Today was pretty uneventful, but I’m sure more will happen in the coming days._

He shut his journal, still thinking back to that moment where he and TJ were just staring. Not like when you zoned out in class and you were fixated on one point, but truly staring, like the kind in the cheesy movies. It was like. . .they were both waiting for something to happen, or at least Cyrus was. But neither of them moved; they were both cemented in their place, and then Buffy came and whatever was happening was broken.

“And there’s probably a word for that,” he mumbled to himself, pulling his phone out and typing out his search entry.

_what do you call it when two people kinda look at each other and want something to happen but neither of them does anything_

It took him three seconds to find the word, and approximately three minutes to figure out how to pronounce it, but when he did, he scrawled it in the back of his journal.

_mamihlapinatapai: a look shared by two people, each wishing that that other would initiate something that they both desire but which neither wants to begin_

Yup, there it was, A perfect description of that perfectly awkward moment between them. The waiter came by to collect the money and take away the empty glasses. Cyrus thanked him and headed out, walking down the street back towards his home. He flicked back to the end of his journal, reading through his little list of words. TJ would probably think it was the lamest thing in the world, and that was precisely why he, along with the rest of his friends, was not going to find out about them.

* * *

 

“So,” Marty began, “you and Cyrus?”

TJ nearly tripped over his sneakers as he tried to make a shot, but missed completely and airballed, thanks to Marty. “Thanks a lot,” he grumbled, inhaling deeply and exhaling while Marty fetched the ball and threw is back to him.

TJ took another shot, having it bounce off the backboard and into the hoop. “What about me and Cyrus?”

Marty took the ball for a layup, and then threw it back to TJ. “You guys are, you know. . .” he hand waved, as if waiting for TJ to finish his sentence.

“ _Dating_? You think we’re _dating_?” he asked incredulously, taking another shot, but missing.

“I mean, I guess yeah,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck, “I thought it was pretty obvious,”

TJ scoffed, passing the ball to Marty. “In my dreams,”

Marty raised his brows, a sly smile splitting his face. “Aha! So you _do_ like him,” he countered, dribbling the ball absentmindedly.

TJ rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Yes, Marty, I do like him. I really think you’re catching on here,” he sassed, grabbing the ball from him and shooting, making it with the help of the backboard.

“So why not ask him out?” Marty suggested simply, dribbling the ball back to TJ, “what’s stopping you?”

TJ pretended to think it over for a minute, become coming to an artificial eureka moment. “Oh, well when you put it like that,” he mused sarcastically, “I would only be ruining my friendship with someone who’s really important to me,”

Marty lightly punched his arm, making goo-goo eyes. “Aw, TJ Kippen is so smitten for Cyrus,” he cooed, earning a glare from the captain.

“Say one word about it and you’re dead,” he threatened, but his face was anything but unhappy, “either way, it’s not important. I like him, but he just wants to be friends, and I’m totally cool living with that constant pain,”

Marty frowned, holding the ball between his torso and his arm. “How do you know he just wants to be friends?” TJ opened his mouth to reply, but Marty beat him to it. “You don’t,”

TJ sighed, taking the ball from him and spinning it in his hands. “I just feel. . .different when I’m with him,”

“Good different or bad different?”

“. . .both, I guess,” he decided, bouncing the ball a few times, “I don’t know, man, feelings just suck,”

Marty nodded, swiping the ball away from him and shooting it, making it through the hoop. “I win!” he exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air.

“We were just shooting hoops! There aren’t winners and losers,” TJ practically whined, crossing his arms and pouting like a child.

“There are always winners and losers,” Marty insisted, running over to the bench and texting, “I’m going to see a movie with Buffy to celebrate, but I’ll catch you around,” he said, giving him a fist bump and jogging down the sidewalk.

TJ picked up the ball spinning it around in his hands for a moment. He dribbled it out to the three-point line, squinting. The sun was starting to set, so its oranges and yellows were nearly blinding TJ. He wanted to stay and shoot hoops for a little while more, but all he could think about was that moment with him and Cyrus. Him and Cyrus, staring at each other, neither one of them making a move. They almost. . .

“No,” TJ muttered to himself. He and Cyrus did _not_ almost kiss. Any movement that had happened was all in his imagination; there was no way that Cyrus could even want to kiss _him_. He let out a frustrated breath; this was going to be one hell of a journal entry when he got to writing it.

So there he stood in front of the free throw line, the remainder of the sunlight pouring through the trees that he always seemed to find peaceful. He took a shot, missing and hitting the top of the backboard. Groaning, he grabbed the ball and tried again, hitting the rim this time and having it fall to the ground, without going through the hoop.

“Shit,” he sneered, tossing the ball against the fence as hard as he could, his breathing a bit heavier than before. Even though he really didn’t want to admit it to himself, he wasn’t making any of his shots because all he could think about was Cyrus. Cyrus, whose brown eyes were so warm and inviting that TJ could stare at them forever and never get bored. Cyrus, whose hands probably fit his like a glove, even if they were occasionally dry during the winter. Cyrus, who was quite possibly the kindest person he’d ever met. Cyrus, who was intelligent. Cyrus. Cyrus. Cyrus. It’s all that his mind could seem to chant.

He found himself in front of the free throw line again, bouncing the ball a few times on the ground. “Give me a sign,” he said, more to himself than the universe, “tell me things are gonna be okay,”

Bracing himself, he took a shot, and the ball rolled around the rim once. Twice. Three times. It teetered for a moment, and TJ knew it wasn’t going to go through. He quickly turned around not willing himself to see himself miss again. He started walking home, hearing the ball bounce a few times on his way out.

If only he hadn’t turned around for a few more seconds, he would have seen it fall through the hoop.

* * *

 

“So, how was hoops with TJ?” Buffy asked as they waited in line for popcorn, “did he kick your ass?”

Marty smirked, putting his hands on his hips with pride. “Actually, _I_ beat _him_ ,” he boasted, dusting off his shoulders.

“Color me impressed,” she joked, moving up a few steps, “you guys were there a while. Did you talk about-”

“-him and Cyrus?” they finished together.

“Yeah,” Marty admitted, scratching the back of his neck, “I mean, I don’t think I’m in the position to tell you what he said, but yeah, Cyrus,”

Buffy nodded, picking at the remnants of her nail polish. “Cyrus and I talked about him too,” she added, “not sure if I can say anything either, but I think we probably know things that they don’t,”

Marty groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Don’t even get me started. I told TJ that I thought he and Cyrus were _dating_ ,”

Buffy shoved him slightly, causing him to bump into the lady in front of him. “You’re kidding,” she wheezed, wiping a tear from her eye, “you didn’t,”

“I did,” he admitted sheepishly, making his way to the front of the line, “I’m such an idiot,”

“I know, and that’s why you’re paying for the snacks,” she said though laughter, almost unable to compose herself.

“If you laugh through this movie, so help me,” Marty mumbled, paying for the popcorn and water bottles.

“Dating,” Buffy choked out, stumbling towards the theatre with awkward steps.

“ _Dating_ ,” Marty mocked, the two of them taking their seats in the cinema. And yes, Buffy laughed throughout almost the entire movie.


	8. Thantophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thantophobia (n.): the fear of losing someone you love

Nearly two weeks had passed since the encounter at the Spoon. Neither TJ nor Cyrus texted each other, their phones not buzzing with excitement like they had for most of the summer.

TJ hated being without Cyrus, if only for a few days, but this was getting excessive. It was as though this important part of him, this _large_ part of him, was suddenly gone. And he knew that Cyrus wasn’t _gone_ gone, but all of a sudden, he felt so much further away. Pulling up his phone, he hesitated, wanting to text Cyrus, but instead opening up Instagram to scroll through photos.

“Give me a sign,” he mumbled, scrolling past endless selfies of girls who applied _just_ a touch too much makeup before an ad popped up. It was for the Christmas in July festival; the one that Cyrus had talked about a while ago.

“Gee, _now_ you wanna give me a sign, universe?” TJ shook his head, opening up his text messages to text Cyrus.

**[Me: so for that xmas in july festival thing, we still on for that?]**

TJ sat staring at his phone for a few minutes waiting for that gray bubble with the three little dots to appear. Five minutes. Ten minutes. He gave up at about the twelve minute mark, setting his phone on the side.

And then it buzzed.

**[Underdog <3: obvi!! we should go get clothes for that]**

**[Underdog <3: unless u own ugly christmas stuff]**

TJ smiled, butterflies erupting from his stomach and fluttering up to his chest.

**[Me: i only own the best of hoodies. where do we get stuff?]**

**[Underdog <3: the place across the street from cloud 10, hideous holidays]**

**[Me: see u there in like 15 minutes?]**

**[Underdog <3: ok!]**

* * *

 

“I am not wearing this,” TJ shuddered, his fingers gliding over a sweater that was most certainly going to give him a rash, “I’ll look the the human embodiment of a bad office Christmas party,”

“C’mon it’s not _that_ bad,” Cyrus tried to convince him, popping out of the dressing room, sporting a light up Hanukkah sweater, “but seriously, this is great, isn’t it?”

He twirled around in it, the lights nearly blinding TJ, but he smiled, shaking his head slightly. “You and only you could pull that off,” he chuckled, turning his attention back to the racks and picking out a slightly less atrocious sweater, “well?”

“Try it on,” Cyrus encouraged, pushing TJ towards the dressing room, “you never know until you try,”

“That’s for sure,” TJ mumbled from inside, putting the sweater over his blue tee. Granted it was a little itchy, but it wasn’t unbearable. He stepped out, grabbing a Santa hat from the shelf and putting it on his head. “Well?”

Cyrus turned around from where he was looking at menorah headbands. “Oh my gosh,” he sputtered, taking out his phone and snapping a picture, “blackmail,”

“You wouldn’t dare,” TJ narrowed his eyes, a grin splitting his face as he grabbed a light-up necklace and ran towards Cyrus, putting it around his neck and taking a picture. “Blackmail,” he mocked, raising his brows.

Cyrus let out a childish squeal, rushing towards where all the hats were and grabbed a bunch of them, throwing them at the other boy. TJ rushed forward and threw his hands around Cyrus, effectively pinning his arms down by his torso.

“Let me go,” Cyrus whined, giggling nonetheless, “I’ll do anything,”

“Well in that case,” TJ started, releasing one arm and pulling his phone out of his pocket and bringing it up, “smile,”

TJ snapped a selfie of the two of them, Cyrus with a light-up necklace around his neck, and TJ with one too many hats on his head. “We look great,” Cyrus mused, taking off the necklace and putting it back with the others.

“No way, you’re getting that,” TJ insisted, taking it back, “we’re getting these outfits for the festival,” he said, peeling off his sweater and his hats.

Cyrus rolled his eyes, struggling to get out of his sweater. “Only if you pay for them will I wear it to the festival,” he said, handing TJ all his clothes.

“Picky, picky,” TJ huffed, making his way over to the register with Cyrus behind him, “what did I do to deserve someone like you,” he mused, pulling out his wallet and fishing out some bills.

“I know, I’m pretty great,” Cyrus agreed, adding a pack of M&Ms to the bunch, “these are for you, as a thank you,”

“Even though I’m paying,” TJ chuckled, handing the money over to the lady behind the counter, “I appreciate the gesture, Underdog,” he said, pulling him in for a quick side hug.

“We’re having a couple discount, ten percent off your order,” the lady piped up as she started to ring up the items.

TJ felt his heart leap into his throat, his face turning a shade of red comparable to the Santa hat on the register. “Oh, uh, we’re not, uh. . .you know, we’re-”

“-not dating,” Cyrus finished for him, clearly flushed, but not unable to form sentences like TJ.

The lady, Ellen was what her name tag said, looked rather embarrassed. “Oh, sorry,” she apologized, bagging up the items and punching a few keys on the register, “I just thought that you guys were. . .nevermind. I, um, you guys have the discount, sorry about that,” she mumbled, printing the receipt and putting it in the bag. “Here’s your change,”

“Thanks,” TJ managed to get out, shoving the mess of coins and bills into his pocket and grabbing the bag, “have a good day,”

“You too,” she added, shaking her head at herself, “kids,” she muttered under her breath.

* * *

 

As soon as Cyrus and TJ left the store, TJ exhaled, feeling some of the excess color drain from his face. “These ones are yours,” he said, pulling out the necklace and sweater for Cyrus and handing them to him.

“Thanks,” he replied, pausing for a moment, “I really missed that, you know. Doing stupid stuff with you,”

TJ felt a familiar smile make its way onto his face; the kind was reserved for only Cyrus and Cyrus alone. “Me too,” he agreed, taking a seat on the bench by the store and patting the spot next to him for Cyrus to sit. Cyrus took a seat, kicking his legs up in front of him and gripping the seat of the bench.

“Do we wanna talk about it?” he asked, the question hanging in the air.

“About what the lady said inside? I mean I don’t think she meant any harm and I’m sure she w-”

“-no, not that,” Cyrus cut him off, “no, I mean what happened back at the Spoon,”

“Oh,” TJ mumbled, defeated. That something. “I mean, is there anything to talk about?” _I only have a massive crush on you and it’s killing me inside._

Cyrus shrugged with one shoulder, leaning back against the bench. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “it was just. . .weird. I think I just, like, totally zoned out,”

Oh. “. . .Yeah, yeah me too,” TJ lied, nodding his head as if to convince himself as well as Cyrus, “Think I was just tired from not getting enough sleep,” he tacked on, knowing full well that it was a complete lie.

“I’m glad we’re back to being normal best friends,” Cyrus sighed, shutting his eyes for a moment and letting the sun warm his body.

“Yup. Friends,” TJ repeated, his voice cracking ever so slightly as he spoke, “wouldn’t wanna lose you,”

Cyrus opened his eyes, turning his head towards the other boy. “You’d never lose me, Teej,” he promised, “not unless you, like, murdered someone,”

TJ breathed a laugh, putting his arms on the back of the bench. “I know, I just. . .you’re important to me, you know, and I wouldn’t wanna lose that,” because I am so in love with you.

“You’re important to me too, you know,” Cyrus admitted, “sap,” he added with a giggle, pulling out his phone. He made a quick note of a word to write down for his journal entry.

_thantophobia: fear of losing someone you love_

“I should probably get back home. My mom doesn’t know I’m out,” TJ groaned, rubbing his hands through his hair and messing it up slightly.

“I’ll walk with you. Think I’m going to stop by the barber shop near your house and get a trim,” Cyrus said, running a hand through his hair, “My hair looks like a mess,”

“Lies, but okay,” TJ retorted, walking towards his street. He saw a pair of figures in the distance and could barely make them out, but once he got a little closer, he saw Amber and Andi. They were. . .talking, which was something that hadn’t happened a lot in the past few weeks.

“Turn around,” TJ whispered, bumping into Cyrus with his sudden motion.

“Wh-” Cyrus started, before following TJ’s line of sight and seeing the two girls talking, albeit intensely, looking closer to an argument.

Without thinking, TJ grabbed Cyrus’ hand and dragged him in the other direction, rounding another corner. When they were out of sight and earshot from the girls, he released Cyrus’ hand, feeling his own bead with sweat as he wiped it on his shorts.

“There’s another way to get home. It’s a little longer but, I didn’t wanna intrude on-”

“-that,” they said in unison, both breaking into smiles.

“Yeah, me neither,” Cyrus agreed, swinging his arms by his side, “I don’t think I’d like to know what they’re saying”

* * *

 

“Can’t we just talk about it?” Andi suggested, her gaze down on a new bracelet she’d made.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Amber said cooly, drumming her fingers against the picnic table they were sitting on.

“Please, Ambs,” Andi pleaded, taking off the bracelet and toying with it in her hand.

“Look,” Amber started, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers, “I don’t wanna avoid you anymore, okay? We need to finish this, stupid, journalism assignment, so let’s just plan out some days to do things and get it over with. Just pretend nothing happened,”

Andi looked up from her bracelet, her eyes glossed over with a layer of tears. “. . .but what about us?”

“What _about_ us, Andi?” Amber sighed, “That’s in the past, can’t you just move on already?” she snapped, a bit harsher than intended.

Andi put a hand on Amber’s. “You know I care about you, right? I shouldn’t have said anything and I’m really sorry about what happened,” she croaked, her voice thick with pain.

“Me too,” Amber said, offering her a sympathetic smile, “things just. . .weren’t meant to be, I guess,” she admitted, “which is okay, you know. . .sometimes things just don’t work out,” she finished, letting her blonde hair shield her face from Andi. She’d done her best to keep her composure and really act like this was no big deal, but she was breaking inside. Amber cared for Andi so much and it physically hurt not being around her.

“I need to do something before you go,” Andi said suddenly crossing her legs and facing the other girl. It was enough to snap Amber out of her thoughts and toss her hair behind her shoulders.

“Okay, sure, I guess, what do y-”

And before she could comprehend anything, Andi’s hands were on her face and her lips were on Andi’s. Amber was in such shock she didn’t know what do; was she even still alive? The kiss felt like it lasted forever and not long enough at the same time. And when Andi pulled away, clearly embarrassed by her actions and muttering apologies under her breath, she just sat there, stunned.

“Idiot, idiot, idiot,” Andi whispered to herself, walking away and swiping at the tears that fell.

Amber remained fixated on the girl, watching her turn into a dot in the distance. She feebly reached her hand up to her lips, still buzzing with adrenaline and excitement. It took her what felt like forever to come back to reality. She tugged on her hair, still ruminating on what had just happened. She cared about Andi so much, and that kiss. . .seemed to answer her questions and raise double the amount of questions simultaneously.

“I still really like her,” Amber whispered to herself, shutting her eyes and letting her eyes burn with tears, “I still like her, and I let her go,”

* * *

 

TJ felt the air conditioning hit him when he first opened the door, sighing audibly. As much as he loved summer, he couldn’t deny that it was so nice to walk into a cool house. Setting the bag down on the floor, he started to take his shoes off when his mom walked into the kitchen.

“Hey, where’ve you been?” she asked, grabbing a pitcher of milk from the fridge.

“Out shopping,” he said, holding up the bag, “it’s a bunch of things for the Christmas in July music festival,”

“That sounds fun,” she replied, adding the milk to her already brewed coffee, “I think I saw an ad about that on Facebook,”

“Yeah, Cyrus and I have been planning for a while, and I still need to get tickets, but then after that I-”

“-Cyrus?” his mom cut in, her voice shrill and piercing.

 _Shit, TJ. Why can’t you go two seconds without mentioning Cyrus?_ “I-uh,” he cleared his throat, face turning redder by the second, “y-yeah. We’re journalism partners, remember? I told you that we had to work together and write about it, take pictures, you know,” he explained, his voice growing consistently softer.

“You can’t go to the festival with him,” she said plainly, as though with a hint of disappointment in her voice. She took a sip of her coffee, meeting her son’s gaze for the first time since he walked in.

“Wh- _mom_ ,” he practically whined, “please don’t do this,” he begged. _Please don’t take me away from Cyrus._

“I’ve already said why, TJ, and I’m not going to explain it again,” she said firmly, leaning against the counter, “I’m not going to have my son hang out with. . .people like him,”

TJ could almost hear the smoke coming out of his ears, his heart thumping so loudly in his ears that he thought his eardrum would burst. “People like him?” he repeated, his voice rising, “Mom, you don’t know him at all! Cyrus is the nicest, sweetest, kindest, smartest, best person I know,” he rambled, crossing his arms. _And also I’m so in love with him and I love the way he smiles and when he laughs I feel like I’m going to faint from happiness and I just want to kiss him a thousand times._

His mom simply shook her head, her short, graying hair dusting her shoulders. “See? It already sounds like you’re in love with the boy,” she mused, nearly grimacing at the very thought.

TJ felt a lot of things in that moment; embarrassment, anger, shock, confusion, frustration. But he never expected himself to say anything about it. “Cyrus is the best thing in my life,” he stated, no wavering in his voice, no fear in his eyes.

She took a sip of her coffee again, setting it down with a high-pitched ‘clink’. “TJ. You can’t go with him, end of discussion,”

“But I already promised!” TJ insisted, frustration bubbling up inside of him with each word.

“And _I_ already said you couldn’t go,” she said through gritted teeth, her eyes hardening, “tell him you can’t go with him and that’s that, TJ. You’re done with him,”

TJ felt his hands balling up into fists, shaking at his sides. He wanted nothing more than to punch a hole in the nearby wall, but somehow, he managed to contain himself. “You have no idea what you’re doing,” he seethed, grabbing his phone and heading out the door, slamming it behind him.

**[Me: can u come to the swings now? i need to talk to you]**

TJ stomped his way down to the park, feeling a lump in his throat rise, making him feel as though he couldn’t breathe. His eyes were burning, tears wanting to trickle down his face, but he refused. He was going to do this calmly and smoothly.

**[Underdog <3: okay...i’ll see u there]**

* * *

 

“So,” Walker started, swinging his and Jonah’s intertwined hands, “there’s this pride parade happening next week. Do you wanna come with me?”

“Obviously,” Jonah chuckled, the idea painting a smile on his face, “I just. . .I don’t know what my parents would say about that,”

“Oh, we can do something else,” Walker suggested quickly, “you know I’d never put you in a situation that made you uncomfortable, right?”

Jonah nodded, furrowing his brows together. “I know, and I like really want to go,” he sighed, thinking it over for a moment, “I could. . .tell them I’m doing something else?”

Walker quirked a brow, stopping Jonah for a second to he could face him. “You really don’t have to, Jonah. Whatever you feel comfortable with, I’m right there with you, all the way,”

Jonah smiled, his cheeks a dusty pink. How was he so lucky to have someone like Walker in his life? “I know. I want to do this. You and me, together,” he chirped, leaning in and pressing his forehead against Walker’s.

Walker felt a rush of warmth take over his body, tilting his head a little to give Jonah a quick peck on his nose. “Together,”

* * *

 

Cyrus walked up towards the swings, seeing TJ lazily move in one of them. “Hey, I got your text, is everything okay?”

 _No._ “Yeah,” TJ lied, looking at the ground so Cyrus couldn’t see the tips of his ears burning, “I just needed to talk to you,” he started, motioning for Cyrus to take a seat on the open swing.

“About what?”

“. . .about the Christmas festival,” he sighed, his heart already racing, and he wasn’t even at the worst part.

“Oh, I still need to get tickets for us, shoot,” Cyrus mumbled, scratching the back of his neck, “I promise when I get home I’ll get them for us, I’ve just been thinking a lot lately,”

“Right,” TJ mumbled, kicking at the ground, “about that.” He exhaled sharply out of his nose, gripping onto the swing chains harder. He couldn’t even face Cyrus; he knew he’d start crying the moment his eyes met the other boy’s. _Just spit it out,_ his mind yelled at him, causing his to squint his eyes shut.

TJ opened his mouth to say something, but then he felt Cyrus put his hand over one of his own. He felt his breath hitch, a familiar lump forming in the back of his throat. _Don’t cry, don’t cry. Not now._

“I-uh. . .I can’t go to the festival with you anymore,” he said quickly, his voice growing meeker with each word. He shut his eyes, trying to block out the other boy’s reaction, but he immediately felt Cyrus retract his hand, as if he’d been burned.

“What do you mean you can’t? We’ve been planning this for weeks, TJ,” Cyrus exclaimed, hopping off his swing, and although TJ couldn’t see it, he was staring the taller boy down from his swing.

“I know,” he muttered weakly, scrubbing harshly at his eyes, continuously reminding himself not to cry, “and, shit, I really wanted to, but,”

“But what, TJ? Did something else come up?” Cyrus asked. TJ looked up to meet his gaze and instantly regretted it. He no longer saw the warm flame of happiness burning in the other boy’s eyes; they reminded him of when he was with him in the cafeteria and he looked _terrified_ of the other students.

TJ bit down so harshly on his lower lip that he almost drew blood, but he didn’t care; that pain was nothing. “I-my mom. . .she said I couldn’t go,” he supplied lamely, hoping that was enough of an answer.

Cyrus frowned, his brows furrowing up. “Is it like a transportation issue? My mom could drive us both down there and she could even-”

“No, it’s not that,” he cut in, his gaze returning to the wood chips underneath his sneakers. He could sense his hands were trembling, but all he did was grip onto the chains harder. _Deep breath, TJ_ , he reminded himself, exhaling a final breath.

“She doesn’t want me hanging out with you because you’re. . .” he trailed, waving his hand and gesturing without saying anything more. And _God_ it hurt to badly to do this he felt like he was in physical pain.

A beat. Two beats. Cyrus took a step forward, studying the other boy’s face carefully. “Because I’m _gay_? You can say the word, you know,”

 _I know_. “. . .Yeah, that,” TJ replied shakily. He _technically_ had the ability to say the word, but he could barely say it to himself in the mirror. How was he expected to say it so nonchalantly in front of Cyrus?

“And. . .you’re just going to ditch me just like that?” he continued. Another step forward. Slowly, TJ could feel his carefully constructed walls starting to crumble. He silently prayed that he wouldn’t start crying, at least not here.

TJ shrugged in response, toying with the strings of his hoodie. “I mean, what else can I do? She’s an adult, and she’s in charge and-”

“Are you implying that she’s _right_ about this whole situation? That it makes sense for you to not be able to hang out with me because I’m gay?” Cyrus demanded, causing TJ to gulp. He’d never seen Cyrus so adamant, and he’d never felt to vulnerable. How the tables have turned.

“If I’m being honest, Cyrus, I didn’t-”

“Oh, _now_ you’re going to start being honest?” he scoffed, crossing his arms, “has everything until now been a lie?”

The question hung in the air, thick with tension. Neither boy stirred. TJ had completely stopped swaying on his swing; the only noise was the rustling of the wind through the trees. TJ had always loved silence, but something about this one seemed bad. Really bad.

“. . .Did you mean it,” Cyrus deadpanned, knowing his voice was on the edge of breaking, “when I came out to you, and you said that you’d accept me no matter what. Did you really mean it?”

A pause. With each moment of silence that passed, TJ could feel the lump in his throat grow more prominent. He felt tears start to bud at the corners of his eyes, but he scrubbed them away.

“Cyrus, please, I-“

“You what, TJ?” he snapped, narrowing his eyes, “you can’t just deal with your mom not approving of something you do? I’m sure that’s not new to her,”

TJ clenched his hands around the chains and released them, over and over. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Cyrus brushed it off, his voice cracking as he kicked at the ground, “some people are homophobic,”

TJ jumped up from his swing, taking a step towards Cyrus. “I am _not_ homophobic,” he hissed, curling his toes inside his sneakers, “dumb, insensitive, and a fucking idiot, yeah,”

“Don’t try and play the victim here,” Cyrus jabbed, “it’s not my fault you can’t stand up to your own mother,”

“You have no idea what it’s like living with her,” he started, glaring at the other boy, “she’s—“

“Homophobic,” Cyrus finished, “like you,”

TJ felt his blood boiling, his vision becoming a little blurry through tears. “I am not and frankly cannot be homophobic!”

“Oh? And how’s that?” Cyrus demanded, getting closer to TJ by the second.

“Because I’m fucking gay!”

And there it was. He’d finally said the word out loud; in front of another person, as well. It felt almost relieving, and probably would have felt better if he wasn’t fighting with Cyrus. He expected Cyrus to be shocked, maybe take a second to think it over.

What he did not expect Cyrus to do was laugh. Like, full on, doubling over.

“You really got me there,” he said through a chuckle, a few tears trickling down his face, “you think you can just pretend to be gay to try and make this whole thing okay?”

Pretend. _Pretend_. “I’m telling the truth, Cyrus, I—“

“How am I supposed to believe that, TJ?” he cut in, searching his eyes for some sort of answer, “you’ve basically been taking your mom’s side all day,” he accused.

And then TJ broke. His walls were reduced to piles of sand, his clever comebacks dying before they reached his tongue. Tears flowed freely down his face. If you asked him, it was utterly pathetic.

Cyrus stared at the ground for a moment, shaking his head. “I don’t think I’m cut out for journalism. I don’t think I can do this,”

TJ angrily swiped at his tears, trying to meet his gaze. “Don’t quit the class because of me,”

Cyrus scoffed, dabbing at his own tears. “Oh, please, I’m not quitting because of you. I’m quitting _in spite_ of you. There’s a difference,” he grumbled.

“How am I supposed to do the assignment then?”

Cyrus’ jaw dropped slightly, letting out a breathy laugh. “For once, that’s not my problem,” he stated with as much confidence as he could possibly gather. Silence fell over them, save for their occasional sniffing.

“You know,” Cyrus started, a smile ghosting his lips, “I hated you before I even met you. Buffy told me all about you and I believed her blindly,” he paused, glancing up at TJ, whose gaze was on the ground.

“And when you started being nice to me, doing all these things with me,” he mumbled, pacing around so harshly he thought his footsteps would burn right through wood chips, “and I thought that maybe Buffy was wrong. That I was right and that you were actually a good person; someone who’s changed,” he choked back a sob, trying to smile at the situation.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more wrong in my life,” he blubbered, pressing against his eyes firmly.

TJ looked at him with watery eyes. He wanted to say that Buffy was wrong, and that he had changed. That he cared about Cyrus more than anyone could imagine. That all the good things he’d done were because of Cyrus. That he was so utterly in love with him. But all the words were caught in his throat, held back by tears and fear.

After another beat, Cyrus sighed audibly, and started walking away. With each step, he could feel more and more tears slip down his face and drip onto his shirt or the grass. At one point he slowed his pace, begrudgingly turning around to see the swings and see if TJ was still there. But all he saw was two empty swings, swaying gently in the wind.

* * *

 

_6/23_

_Today was the worst day of my life. TJ hates me because I’m gay, and cancelled plans to go to the Christmas in July festival. I should have just believed Buffy when she said that he was ‘Toxic TJ Kippen’, and that he was bad news. I really thought that this project would bring us together. Turns out I was wrong._

Cyrus wiped away tears quickly, before they had a chance to smudge his writing. This was probably going to be the last entry of the journal, considering he was seriously contemplating dropping the class. Yes, he loved journalism and it was something he definitely wanted to pursue in college. No, he didn’t want to spend the rest of the summer with TJ. Pushing his journal aside, his picked up his phone. Several new texts from TJ, one from Buffy, and a notification letting him know that his order for a new theatre book would arrive soon. His hands trembled, setting the phone aside to flip to the back of his notebook.

_thantophobia: the fear of losing someone you love_

Cyrus sighed, a few loose tears trickling down his face. No matter how mad TJ made him, how upset he felt, he couldn’t bring himself to tear out the little sheet of words. Trying to distract himself, he picked up his phone again.

**[real vampire slayer not clickbait: sorry for teasing you about tj. he just seems like he rlly likes you, you know?]**

Cyrus almost smiled: almost. Buffy rarely apologized, but she seemed to be getting better at that.

**[Me: dont worry about that or us jsdhkjfsd]**

And he meant it. He didn’t want Buffy to worry about what was happening; he didn’t want anyone knowing what happened.

_7 new messages from ‘Teej’_

Cyrus hesitated, his finger hovering; one click to just see the messages. And he really wanted to, but he also didn’t want to. It was this inner tug of war where nobody won, and Cyrus ended up losing either way. Shutting his eyes, he tapped on the screen, opening up his messages.

**[Teej: cyrus im so so sorry i fucked up so badly]**

**[Teej: i do support you like so much]**

**[Teej: please talk to me]**

**[Teej: i can’t stand not talking to you]**

**[Teej: please answer my texts, i wanna make sure you’re ok]**

**[Teej: cyrus please]**

**[Teej: sorry]**

Cyrus read the texts, over and over. Eventually the colors started to blend together, the white background and the blue bubbles becoming one blob as his eyes glossed over with tears. He turned his phone off, putting it under his pillow and burying his head in the pillow, his sobs muffled by the fabric.

* * *

 

_6/23_

_I screwed up so badly today. I lost my best friend, all because I’m scared of my mom. I’m such a coward. I’ll never get to talk to him again. I’ve lost him. I’ll never get to hear him laugh, or see him smile, or tell him that I love him. Classic TJ. Anything good, I gotta ruin it._

TJ let out a frustrated sigh, blinking his eyes a few times. He’d done his share of crying, his eyes now irritated and puffy. He tried taking a shower, to clear his head, but that didn’t help at all. Everything seemed to be crumbling before his very eyes.

“TJ? Can I come in?”

Amber. TJ groaned, pulling a blanket over his face. “Go away,” he whimpered, and cleared his throat, “I don’t wanna see anyone,”

“You’ve been crying,” she observed, solely from his voice.

“. . .no,” he lied, crossing his arms, but not like she could see him.

“TJ.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he protested, “not now,”

Amber nodded, taking a step back. “Whenever you’re ready, you know where to find me,” she said, walking back to her room and shutting the door.

Only when TJ knew that she was gone did he go into the bathroom, turn on the water, pull his knees into his chest, and sob until he cried himself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you're mad, i know. you're probably sad and upset, i know. yell to me in the comments. i love you all.


	9. Wonderwall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wonderwall (adj.): someone you find yourself thinking about all the time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i just wrote the last chapter yesterday but i got really excited so here's the next one  
> song of the chapter - only us from dear evan hansen

TJ woke, up, groaning against the tile floor. That’s funny; he didn’t remember falling asleep in. . .the bathroom? Slowly, he peeled himself off of the floor, rubbing his temples. What on earth happened? He reached for his phone, unlocking it and looking at his texts.

“Oh,” he muttered under his breath, leaning his head back against the tile and placing his hands on his eyes, “right,”

He turned his phone on again, checking the time. 10:06 flashed back at him. _Amber’s probably awake_ , he thought to himself, standing up and looking at himself in the mirror. His eyes looked bloodshot, still slightly puffy from last night. His hair was disheveled, branching off in various different directions. But worse than how he looked was how he felt. It was like this aching pain in his chest, like the tiniest thing could set him off again, crumpling into a pathetic pile of a person.

Splashing some water on his face, he tried to perk himself up. He had a plan, after all. Walk into Amber’s room. Don’t cry. Tell her what happened. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

Shutting his door with a gentle click, he padded the floor on his way to his sister’s room, knocking on her door lightly. She opened it swiftly, half ready for the day, with her clothes on, but her hair still a mess, and a toothbrush in her mouth. She ushered him inside, walking into her bathroom to rinse her mouth before walking back out. And as soon as she took a seat by him, it all came out like word vomit.

“I messed up, like so huge Amber, you have no idea,” he started, “we went shopping for Christmas things for the festival and then we went home and I ran into mom and of course I had to mention Cyrus because I’m such and idiot and,” he hiccuped, tears starting to flow. Failed that part of the plan.

“And she told me that I couldn’t go to the festival with him because he was. . .you know, him, and then she made me tell him that and it broke his heart and there was yelling and I told him that I was. . .gay, and then he didn’t believe me and he left and,” he stopped, not even voluntarily. He was just crying so hard, his sobs echoing throughout the room as Amber attempted to console him by rubbing his back. His hands were shaking, and to steady them he gripped his hair, tugging on it. It felt like forever before he said anything else.

“I’m such an idiot, and now I’m just crying. I’m weak, Ambs,” he whimpered, putting his head on his knees.

“People don’t cry because they’re weak, but because they’ve been strong for too long,” she said to him, wrapping him in a hug, “with all the stuff with mom happening, it makes a little sense,”

“Makes sense that I lost my best friend,” he snorted, rubbing his eyes harshly, “I just really wanna talk to him, but he’s not answering my texts. He hates me,”

“Go to his house,” Amber said calmly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

TJ jerked his head up so fast his neck started to hurt. “Are you insane? His parents probably have a restraining order against me by now,”

“I’m sure he wants to talk to you too, TJ,” Amber assured him, “you mean a lot to him,”

TJ scoffed, shaking his head. “How would you know that?”

“I know we don’t talk that much, but whenever we do, he always talks about you,” she told him, “‘TJ this, TJ that TJ something else’. It’s pretty endearing,”

TJ crossed his arms, refusing to believe her. “I’ll try and talk to him later. Not now. If I go now I’ll just end up breaking down on his porch,”

Amber nodded, reaching up and putting her hair in a neater bun.

“So how’d things go with Andi?”

Amber choked on her own spit, coughing and coughing. “Ho-you _saw_ us? You were _spying_ on us?” she squeaked out, clearing her throat loudly.

TJ shook his head. “No, I was coming back from shopping with Cyrus and we saw you guys, so we turned around. Didn’t wanna intrude,”

Amber seemed to relax at that, feeling her heartbeat come back to normal. “Oh,” she mumbled, “sorry I just. . .I like her so much and, dammit it hurts to not be with her I love her so much,”

TJ raised his brows, the edges of his lips twitching into an almost unnoticeable smile. “You _love_ her?”

Amber froze, stunned at her own words. She loved her. She loved Andi. “Shit. I need to tell her, don’t I,”

TJ nodded, patting her on the shoulder. “Yup,”

“Looks like we’re both facing the music today, huh,” she mused, getting up to finish getting ready for the day.

“Guess so,” TJ sighed, getting up to go take a shower.

* * *

 

Cyrus stared at the list of words, unable to think of anything else. He wanted his mind to go somewhere else, maybe thing about the dinosaur documentary that he watched a little while ago, but no. All his mind wanted to do was chant ‘TJ’ over and over again. He couldn’t stop thinking about him.

_what do you call it when you can’t stop thinking of someone no matter how hard you try_

Cyrus sighed, grabbing a pen from his nightstand and scrawling down another word.

_wonderwall: someone who you find yourself thinking about all the time_

He read over the list of words a few more times, but soon they started to blend into a mix of colors. His eyes glossed over with tears and he set the journal aside, throwing his face into his pillow and crying softly.

TJ gently knocked on the door, standing outside and willing himself not to cry. He silently prayed that Cyrus would open the door and his parents wouldn’t be home, but that was a slim chance.

“Oh, TJ, nice to see you,” Norman said opening the door with a smile.

TJ blinked. “Uh, is Cyrus here?”

Norman nodded. “He’s been up in his room all day. He’s been down ever since-”

 _Brace yourself TJ, here goes nothing,_ he thought to himself.

“-since he found out that they were sold out of tickets for the Christmas in July festival,”

TJ nearly choked on air, feeling his knees weaken. _What_? That was a complete lie.

“You’re welcome to come in, he’s up in his room,” he said, stepping aside for TJ to enter, “Cyrus! You have a visitor!” he called, giving TJ a quick smile before shutting the door and walking back to his office.

TJ made his way up the stairs quietly, taking in all the pictures of Cyrus and his parents on the walls. He paused outside his door, taking in a shaky breath and entering his room. Cyrus was sitting on his bed, his legs crossed and his journal in his hands. TJ took a seat on the other side of the bed, his hands in his lap. Neither boy said anything, and the room was dead silent save for the seemingly loud ticking of the clock.

“I fucked up, majorly,” TJ said after what felt like the longer moment of silence in the world. The one at the school announcements had nothing on this one.

“I’ll say,” Cyrus muttered under his breath, flipping through the pages in his journal without reading them.

“Can I at least say I’m sorry?” TJ pleaded, looking at Cyrus, who’s gaze was down. Cyrus shrugged, and looked smaller than TJ had ever seen him.

“I didn’t mean to explode at you like that, and I _really_ didn’t mean to come off as though I didn’t support you,” he started, cracking his knuckles, “and I am. Gay, that is. That much is true,”

And for a split second Cyrus opened his mouth to say something apologetic, but he didn’t. He paused before he spoke, choosing his words carefully.

“You didn’t apologize,” he deadpanned, rubbing his hands on his knees.

TJ brought his brows together, his forehead wrinkling up. “Yes, I did I-” he stopped, running through what he said in his head. The words ‘I’m sorry’ never left his mouth, did they.

“You’re right. Well, sorry for not saying sorry,” he sighed.

“So you’ve apologized for not apologizing, but you still haven’t apologized,” Cyrus stated, meeting his gaze for the first time, TJ’s green eyes meeting his brown ones.

“You can be a little annoying, you know that?” TJ found himself saying. He thought it was going to be quiet enough to the point where Cyrus didn’t hear him, but he was wrong.

“Well, you can be oblivious,” Cyrus countered, crossing his arms.

“Well you can be very judgy,” TJ shot back, inching closer to Cyrus with each word.

“Well you can be intimidating,” Cyrus snapped, his hard eyes focusing on the other boy’s.

“You know what else you are?” TJ asked, his hands digging in slightly into Cyrus’ bed.

Cyrus took a scoot forward, keeping his gaze steady. “What?”

And out of the millions of things TJ could have said; my favorite person in the world, the love of my life, the person I’m in love with, he didn’t choose any of those.

“My best friend. And I cannot fucking imagine life without you, Cy,” TJ said lowly breaking the gaze between them, because he knew if he held it for much longer, he’d start crying again. And that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Cyrus opened his mouth to say something, anything, but all the words died on the tip of his tongue. No words or sounds came out; all he could do was stare.

“Look,” TJ started, pinching his nose, “I screwed up, like majorly, I know that. I just. . .shit’s been going on at home and I took it out on you. Believe me when I say that that’s the truth,”

TJ peered at Cyrus, but the shorter boy’s gaze was directed towards his lap. He didn’t say anything for a little while, again, the ticking of the clock being the only noise.

“You can’t keep asking me to trust you when I’m still coughing up water from the last time you drowned me,” Cyrus said, his voice small and fragile, like at any moment he’d break.

“. . .what are you saying?” TJ asked meekly, afraid to know the answer himself.

Cyrus sighed, lifting his head to see TJ’s face. “Look, TJ. I don’t wanna cut you out of my life, okay? But what you said yesterday,” he paused, taking a shaky breath, “it really hurt me. And I just,” he stopped again, wiping tears from his face. TJ wanted nothing more than to reach out and swipe them away, but he didn’t.

“And I just haven’t stopped crying since yesterday, but, dammit, TJ,” he choked out, trying to clear his throat, “you drew memories in my mind that I couldn’t erase, and I just-”

And then he crumpled. Every bit of him that was part of his walls came crumbling down, leaving him vulnerable and exposed. He collapsed onto TJ, sobbing into his shirt, his entire body shaking, trembling. And there was nothing he could do about it; it was like this natural, and utterly raw reaction.

TJ tightly wrapped his arms around Cyrus, holding him in his arms for forever. He rubbed his back soothingly, and whispering ‘it’s okay’ and ‘I’m sorry’ every now and then. He rested his chin on the other boy’s head, wanting nothing more than to give him a few kisses and tell him things are going to be okay.

Cyrus could only hear himself crying, however. He barely registered that TJ’s arms were around him, and while he was still upset with him, he did have to admit that it felt nice to have someone hugging him.

“When I was a freshman,” he started weakly, his words muffled by TJ’s shirt, “I was friends with this kid named Luke, and we used to be best friends,”

TJ knew that. When _he_ was a freshman, he never really liked Luke. Well, truthfully, _Luke_ never really liked _him_ , which led to TJ not liking Luke.

“And I felt really close to him, so one day I-I told him that I was gay,” he stammered, prying himself off of TJ’s body and pulling his knees into his chest, “which didn’t go over well with him and he just. . .cut me out of his life,”

TJ vaguely remembered that day. He and Cyrus were friends at the time, but not at the extent that they were now. He’d seen Cyrus on the swings and went over to talk to him, but Cyrus didn’t say anything. He just said that things were complicated and that he’d rather not say anything. But when TJ didn’t see Luke and Cyrus hang out ever again after that, he wondered it it had something to do with that day at the swings.

“And I know people are temporary in life, but please, TJ, please be permanent, just this once,” he begged, his eyes drowning in tears as he spoke. TJ’s eyes met Cyrus’, and TJ felt this aching feeling to just reach out, cup Cyrus’ face, and tell him things were going to be okay. That he would never, _ever_ want to hurt him. And he really wanted to be permanent in Cyrus’ life, but he didn’t know if Cyrus truly meant that.

“But, don’t you hate me right now?”

Cyrus tried to clear his throat, pulling the top of his shirt up to wipe away his tears. “I’m still upset with you, like, haven’t fully forgiven you, but you’re really important to me, and nothing could ever change that,”

TJ could feel a blossom of hope blooming in his chest, a sense of relaxation washing over him. “You’re really important to me too,”

The two of them sat in silence, neither one wanting to say anything else. TJ’s mind was buzzing with millions of apologies, but he didn’t say any of them.

“Thanks for not telling your parents,” he finally said, intertwining his hands together.

Cyrus shook his head. “I didn’t tell anyone. Didn’t want them to make a big deal out of this,”

Leave it to Cyrus to hide major things from people to not seem like a burden. TJ felt a pang of guilt, like it was his fault that Cyrus had to hide this major thing from everyone he loved.

“I should go,” TJ said, swinging his legs off of the bed.

Cyrus nodded. “Yeah, yeah. . .see you around?”

TJ ducked his head, standing up. “See you,” he said, leaving his room and going down the stairs, only to bump into Leslie at the bottom.

“Oh, TJ, so nice to see you, honey,” she chirped, sipping her cup of tea, “did you come to see Cyrus?”

TJ nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Yeah, we hung out in his room for a little bit,”

Leslie smiled, taking another sip. “He was upset about not being able to get tickets. I know you boys were really excited to go to the festival. Cyrus hasn’t stopped talking about how great it was going to be going with you,” she hummed, meeting TJ’s gaze.

“He said that?” TJ gawked, doing a very poor job of hiding the growing blush.

“He talks about you all the time. ‘TJ this, TJ that, i’m going to hang out with TJ’. He’s really taken to you,” she pointed out, giving him a quick wave before walking away.

It was like deja vu hit him like a truck. That was almost the exact same thing that Amber had said to him this morning. As he walked home, Leslie’s words were all that he could think about. _He’s really taken to you_. Those words echoed in his head up until he reached his door. What on earth could that mean?

The air conditioning hit him on the way in. He peered into the driveway when he shut the door, and saw that the car wasn’t there. His mom wasn’t home. At least he could now think all his gay thoughts in solidarity. That is, until Marty texted him.

**[mr the party: wanna shoot hoops?]**

+

“You think something happened between TJ and Cyrus?” Buffy found herself asking, her eyes glued to the screen where she was currently kicking Marty’s ass at Mario Kart.

“Why would you say that?” he asked, veering sharply to the left, but ultimately losing.

Buffy set the controller down, shrugging. “Just Cyrus’ text,” she said, reaching up to the couch and unlocking her phone, showing the text to Marty.

“I’m sure it’s nothing. Besides, Cyrus would tell you, wouldn’t he?”

Buffy nodded, not completely convinced. “I guess so,” she muttered, leaning against the couch and shutting her eyes. Marty glanced over at her, smiling to himself. How lucky was he to be with someone like her? Someone so beautiful, and kind, and competitive, and loyal, and. . .

“I love you,” he blurted out, effectively making Buffy snap her neck up and stare at him.

“What?” she breathed out, mouth slightly ajar.

“Shit, I-sorry, I didn’t mean it, I-I mean I guess, I did mean it, but like,” he stammered, having no idea how to fix any of this. So much for playing things cool.

“I have to go,” she said quickly, grabbing her phone and scrambling to get up, leaving Marty’s house faster than she beat him at the video game.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Marty muttered to himself, pressing his hands against his eyes. He grabbed his phone, wanting to text Buffy that he was sorry for freaking her out, and that he hoped things would still be cool between them, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Instead, he clicked on someone else’s contact.

**[Me: wanna shoot hoops?]**

* * *

 

“You said you _loved_ her?” TJ asked incredulously, effortless sinking a hoop as he passed the ball to Marty.

He groaned, pressing the ball to his head. “It just came out of me, I guess,” he mused, shooting and missing.

“That’s really sweet,” he said in a sing-song manner, eliciting another groan from Marty.

“I don’t like this love-sick side of you, Kippen,” Marty joked, passing him the ball again.

TJ shook his head, dribbling the ball a few times. “Believe me, I don’t like it either,”

Marty quirked a brow, grabbing the ball after TJ shot it. “What do you mean?”

TJ waved him off, going up for a layup. “It’s nothing, let’s just shoot hoops,”

TJ played a lot better than when he did the other time he played with Marty. And maybe he missed a few shots because he was thinking of a certain boy, but that wasn’t important.

* * *

 

Amber paced the floor in front of Andi’s house, rehearsing over and over what she was going to say. She didn’t want to walk in and start stumbling over her words. Ringing the doorbell, she waited outside. For a split second, she thought about running away, ditching. But then what would she say to TJ when he asked about it?

Andi opened the door, her face falling slightly when she saw Amber. “Hey,”

“Hi,” Amber said meekly, “is it okay if I come in?”

Andi nodded, her gaze on the carpet as Amber took off her shoes. “We can stay here or go up to my room. Bex isn’t home and Bowie has guitar lessons,”

Amber started towards the stairs, with Andi following behind her. They both took a seat on Andi’s bed, with Amber holding a stuffed animal in her hand. It was really endearing, Amber thought.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Andi asked, leaning on her stomach and propping up her head with her hands.

Amber sighed, lying down so that Andi looked upside down to her. “Andi, I,” she started, shutting her eyes, “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t still have feelings for you,” she admitted, “and I think that kiss solidified it,”

Andi didn’t reply for a period of time, choosing to toy with her hair for a little while. “But. . .when we were fighting you-”

“-I know what I said,” Amber cut her off, meeting Andi’s gaze, “I know. I think. . .I was just upset. I didn’t know how to react when you said you’d told Bex. I just, kinda freaked out, you know?”

“I shouldn’t have told her,” Andi mumbled, shutting her eyes.

Amber put a hand on Andi’s. “It was an honest mistake, Andi. There’s no point in dwelling over the past. You can’t change the past old sport,” she said with a smile, earning a chuckle from Andi.

“So. . .what about us?”

Amber bit her lip, unsure how to answer. “I know that I like you, Andi,” she said. _I love you but I don’t want to scare you off_. “And if you still like me, and are still willing to try, I think. . .we can try this? You and me, that’s all that we need it to be,”

“And the rest of the world falls away,” Andi sighed, squeezing Amber’s hand, “what about your mom?”

“I’ll keep my lesbianness under control,” Amber chuckled, “you’re worth it, you know it,”

Andi started to blush, grinning from ear to ear. “Yeah, I know,”

Amber fake gasped. “Wow, might have to rethink this. Can’t be around an egomaniac,”

“You love me and you know it,” Andi pouted, crossing her arms.

“Yeah,” Amber murmured, “I know,”

* * *

 

Cyrus tapped his pen on his chin. All he’d written was the date for the day; he wasn’t sure if he wanted to go into that much detail about the day’s events. He sighed, thinking back to what his step-dad always said about journalism. _They report the details that they don’t want to write, but they need to write._ And Cyrus supposed he was right; if it was something hard to write about, it was probably important.

_6/24_

_Today TJ came over and we talked about yesterday and what happened. It still hurts, what he said, but I think we’re on the road to forgiveness. I think we both just misunderstood the situation and ended up hurting each other in the process. I’m really happy that he’s not ignoring me, because even though we fought, I know I couldn’t just cut him out of my life. He’s my favorite person ever, but I wouldn’t tell Buffy that. His eyes also looked really nice in the light, like a green unmatched by any plant._

He stopped, reading over the last sentence a few times. That sounded. . .off. He tried to write a little more to explain himself.

_I mean in a normal way that friends do. Like ‘oh I never noticed that’ not like ‘wow I love that so much it’s kinda cute and how come I never noticed that before’._

Cyrus sighed; he was rambling, even in his writing.

_TJ is my friend and I think he has nice eyes._

There, that was fine right? That made it sound like he wasn’t starting to have a crush on TJ, right? Because Cyrus most definitely did not have a crush on TJ. He just didn’t.

Except that he probably did.


	10. Naz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> naz (n.): the pride that comes with knowing that you are loved no matter what

Buffy paced around her room, waiting for the ringing on the phone to stop.

“Hello?” came Cyrus’ voice from the other end.

“We have a problem,” she muttered, plopping down on her bed.

“Oh? Is everything okay?” Cyrus asked, his brows furrowing together.

“Marty told me he loves me,”

Cyrus nearly choked on his own spit. “He did?”

Buffy nodded, even though Cyrus couldn’t see her. “And it was totally out of the blue, like we were literally playing Mario Kart,” she explained, “and I was just so shocked and taken aback. So I just left,”

“Yikes,” Cyrus mumbled, much to the displease of Buffy.

“Not helping. What do I do?” she asked, playing with a lock of her hair.

“Well, do you love him?”

Buffy paused, and Cyrus almost thought that she’d hung up. “I-I don’t know. I’m not sure,”

“Tell him that,” he offered her, “feelings can be really hard and silence can be worse than the truth,”

“You’re probably right,” she said, “so, you and TJ?” she asked, quickly changing the subject.

Cyrus froze, inhaling sharply. “What are you talking about?”

“Your text seemed off,” she stated.

“Nah, things are good, I’m good, we’re good,” he rambled, his face scrunching up as he spoke.

“Oo, you gonna hang out with him again?” she cooed, and even though Cyrus couldn’t see her, he knew she was smirking.

“Yeah, we’re going to the fair in town,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “Not sure how that’s gonna go with his mom,”

“What do you mean?”

“Long story. I’ll talk to you later?” Cyrus offered.

“Talk to me after your date,” Buffy chuckled, grinning widely.

“I love you and I hate you,” he said, hanging up and putting his phone in his pocket.

* * *

 

“Stay still, I’m gonna screw it up!” Walker insisted, pouting.

“But it tickles,” Jonah countered, looking up at him with a big grin. He put his hands under his legs, trying to keep himself from squirming and ruining Walker’s face paint job.

“ _Bi_ the way, you look great with this,” Walker joked, to which Jonah replied with finger-guns.

“And you look _pan_ -tastic. . .that was awful, I’m sorry,” he shook his head, peering in the mirror to admire Walker’s work, “it’s so pretty! I love it,”

Walker beamed, taking Jonah’s hand and rushing down the stairs. “Mom, we’re ready to go!”

Walker’s mom hurried into the room. “Well don’t you boys look lovely,” she remarked, ushering them out the door, “you know if anything happens to call me, right?”

“Right, we will,” Walker promised, giving her a quick peck on the cheek, “love you!”

The couple walked down the street, hand in hand, until they saw the big arch of rainbow balloons. Flags in every size and color danced in the wind, people threw confetti everywhere, and the whole environment looked a little hectic, but loving nonetheless.

“You ever been to pride before?” Walker asked, squeezing through the crowd to try and get a better view for the parade.

Jonah shook his head. “Never, what’s it like?”

“It’s like someone threw up the world’s biggest rainbow, then doused it in glitter,” he joked, “it’s really great,”

The parade was up and running by the time they got there. There was a bi float, to which Jonah screamed at the top of his lungs about. Someone on the float tossed him a little pin that said ‘I like my men how I like my women’. Sure, they were getting jostled and bumped around, but Jonah wouldn’t trade that feeling for anything in the world. Confetti filled the air, as did whoops of applause, when a proposal took place on one of the floats, and everyone collectively lost their minds.

“This is so great!” Walker cheered, turning towards Jonah, who had a small, telling smile on his face, “what?”

“. . .I love you,” he said softly, thinking the words would get lost in the cacophony of the parade.

Walker grinned, tears brimming from his eyes. “I love you too, you know. I was . . .gonna tell you, but I was afraid you were gonna freak out,”

Jonah cupped Walker’s face, bringing their noses together. “You absolute dork,” he mumbled, pecking his lips. People around them joined in with a chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’, a few clapping the boys on the back and telling them they were adorable together. Everything was going so well.

Until a certain middle-aged woman was walking down the street and was able to pick out her son from the crowd.

“Jonah!” a shrill voice stood out from all the others, “Jonah what are you doing here?”

His blood ran cold. He felt like he was going to faint or cry or throw up or all three. Luckily, Walker was there holding his hand, and telling him things were going to be okay. People around Jonah and Walker stared at the woman.

“C’mon, let’s go,” she said, holding out her hand.

Jonah opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. By this point, more and more people had gathered around him, whispers and murmurs tearing through the crowd.

“With all due respect, Mrs. Beck,” Walker piped up, ever the brave one, “he’s gonna stay with me. I really care about him and,” he looked at Jonah, smiling softly, “I know he really cares about me,”

“But. . .you’re both boys?” she hesitated, all of a sudden feeling quite uncomfortable in her situation.

“Good catch, lady,” someone from the crowd called out, earning a few ‘woos’ and applause.

“So?” Jonah said, trying to stand his ground, “Mom, I love him. Isn’t that all that matters?”

Jonah’s mom looked at Walker, conflicted, as if trying to ask him for answers, but his face read ‘don’t look at me’.

“Wouldn’t you rather have a happy son who loves a boy rather than a sad one who pretends to love a girl?” said someone else, offering some advice.

She took a few steps forward, parting through the crowd to get to her son. “Jonah,” she started, putting her hands on his shoulder, “I love you no matter what, you know that right?”

And at that, Jonah collapsed into her arms and started to cry. Happy tears, sad tears, all the tears. Cheers and applause ensued, but all Jonah could think about was how happy he was to finally have this weight lifted off of his chest.

When his mom pulled away, she looked at Walker. “So, you’re the artist?”

Walker ducked his head, trying to hide the ever-growing blush on his cheeks. “How do you know?”

“Jonah has a drawing you did in his room,” she supplied, to which Jonah groaned of embarrassment, “and that’s my cue to leave. I’ll catch you boys later,” she said, walking off.

“You have a drawing I did in your room?” Walker asked, a soft smile gracing his face.

Jonah nodded. “The one you did of me in the park that day. It’s always been my favorite,”

Walker grinned, slinging an arm around him. He opened his mouth to say something, but then what seemed like a pound of glitter rained down on them.

“Happy pride, you’re never getting the glitter out of your hair,” Walker chuckled.

“Worth it,” Jonah assured him, grinning like an idiot.

* * *

 

“Yes!” TJ pumped his fist in the air, after he’d sunk the last basket.

“Surprise, surprise, ladies and gents, TJ Kippen can shoot basketballs,” Cyrus teased, poking his shoulder.

TJ ignored him, pointing to the plush dinosaur behind the man. “For you,”

Cyrus looked from the stuffed animal to TJ. “Really?”

TJ nodded. “Of course. You love dinosaurs, so it only makes sense that I’d give it to you,”

“It’s also a stuffed animal and I’m 16 years old,”

“I can easily take that away from you. I will turn this prize around,” he threatened with mock authority, crossing his arms.

Cyrus sighed, tucking the dino under his arm. “Thanks,” he muttered, kicking the ground.

TJ frowned, trying to meet his gaze. “Do you not like it? I can pick something else,”

Cyrus shook his head. “No, it’s not that. I just. . .I wish I could win you something, but my lack of hand-eye coordination impedes that desire,”

TJ rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, most of these games are probably math driven,” he insisted, peering at the booths, “darts?”

“Sure, we’ll just end up in the ER when I inevitably forget which direction to throw it in,” Cyrus mused, following TJ.

“I’ll help you,” he offered, handing the lady behind the booth a few tickets, and getting a few darts in return, “take the first shot. I’ll hold your beloved dinosaur,”

Cyrus picked up one of the darts with extreme caution. He shut one eye, trying to gauge where he should throw it. After a few intense moments of concentration, he threw it, and it hit the board and landed on the ground.

“Help?” TJ offered, setting the plush animal aside and coming up beside him, holding the dart in both their hands, “so, just pinch it like this,” he said, moving Cyrus’ fingers in the right position, electricity zipping through him with each touch.

Cyrus felt like he almost couldn’t breathe, and he didn’t even know why. Was there something in the air? Was it some weird summer curse? Either way, the next thing he knew was that the dart had left his hands and the balloon popped.

“Hey, you did it!” TJ cheered, ruffling his hair gently, “told you,”

Cyrus pointed to a small, plush basketball, thanking the lady. “For you,”

TJ beamed, picking it up like it was his own child. “I love it, thank you,”

Cyrus shrugged, grabbing his dinosaur as they walked. “Doesn’t begin to compare to this, but I’m glad you like it,”

“Cyrus?” a voice called, followed by a slew of excited squeals.

“Amber, hey!” he greeted, “ and Andi. What are you guys doing?”

“We’re going to recreate Love, Simon,” Andi said, pointing to the ferris wheel.

“Ah,” TJ nodded sagely, “round and round the lesbians go, where they stop, nobody knows,”

Cyrus chuckled, holding out his dino. “Look what TJ won for me!”

Amber raised her brows, giving her brother a knowing look. “Wow, that’s really special. He must have really known you’d like that,”

“Well look at what _Cyrus_ got _me_ ,” TJ said through gritted teeth, “it’s a basketball because he knows I love it,”

Andi looked between the two Kippens, trying to figure out what was going on. “Should we head towards the ferris wheel? Recreate that iconic scene,” she said, taking Amber’s hand and running to the line.

“I want that,” Cyrus sighed, hugging the dino to his chest sweetly.

“To go on the ferris wheel?” TJ nearly squeaks out, “yeah, let’s do it,” he says with the least amount of confidence possible.

Cyrus grabs TJ’s hand, tugging him along and catching up to Amber and Andi. The girls and Cyrus talked about the movie for a little while, Cyrus gushing about the lighting and the cinematography, while Amber just kept repeating the word ‘gay’ over and over.

When they got towards the front of the line, Cyrus handed the man tickets for him and TJ, and they both took their seats, their respective prizes on the outside of the seats. The man started the ride, and the boys weren’t even three feet on the ground when TJ squeezed his eyes shut.

“Would this be a bad time to tell you I’m afraid of heights?” he muttered, feeling something gentle rest on his hand that was gripping the bar for dear life.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Cyrus assured him, “open your eyes. You don’t have to look down, just look at me,”

TJ slowly fluttered his eyes open, the first thing he saw being Cyrus’ hand on his. His gaze trailed up to his face, meeting his eyes; gosh, he could drown in those.

“Hey,” Cyrus whispered, scooting a little closer to TJ.

“Hey,” TJ said back, heart pounding, his breath coming in quick breaths, not because of the ferris wheel. He’d forgotten that he was so high above the ground. “I’m kinda weak, aren’t I,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

Cyrus frowned. “You know I’d love you no matter what,” he said, biting his tongue, “I mean, you know like, I-I love all my friends, like how friends love each other,” he stammered, exhaling.

“Oh. Yeah. Me too,” TJ replied, suddenly remembering he was on the ride, and clenching the bar a little tighter.

When they reached the bottom, TJ grabbed his basketball and flew off the seat. Cyrus took his dino, and walked off calmly, laughing as he caught up to TJ; the kind of laugh that made you dizzy with excitement. While TJ took a moment to catch his breath, Cyrus pulled out his phone and googled:

_being loved no matter what_

He opened his notes, and jotted down the word quickly so he wouldn’t forget.

_naz: the pride that comes with knowing that you are loved no matter what you do_

Amber and Andi stumbled off the ferris wheel, both laughing and smiling like two idiots.

“You two okay?” TJ asked, having regained his sense of safety.

“We’re good, just gay,” Amber supplied, squeezing Andi’s hand, “and also kind of tired and ready to go home,”

TJ nodded, turning to Cyrus. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Cyrus agreed, walking in the opposite direction with Andi, as Amber and TJ headed home.

* * *

 

“So how was your date?” Amber cooed, batting her lashes at her brother.

TJ pushed her, making her stumble a little. “It wasn’t a date,”

Amber stopped dead in her tracks, grabbing TJ by the wrist. “It was literally Love, Simon, you dumbass gay disaster,”

TJ rolled his eyes, tugging his arm away from her. “So, how was _your_ date?”

Amber shrugged, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger. “It was a sort-of date. We both like each other but are trying to keep this under wraps, you know?”

TJ nodded. “Yeah, I know. . .mom stuff,”

“Speaking of which, what did you tell her about this ordeal?” Amber asked, the two of them rounding the corner and walking down the street.

“I said we were going to the fair, just you and me,” he supplied.

“We need a selfie to prove it,” Amber decided, “my phone’s dead,”

“Fine, fine, I guess we can use mine,” he mumbled, unlocking it and clicking through. He accidentally selected photos instead of camera, and the picture of him and Cyrus in the Christmas shop popping up. Just his luck.

Amber’s jaw dropped, making incoherent noises as TJ tried to close the image, but Amber was holding onto his phone like death. “Oh my _gosh_ , you guys are literally so cute,” she finally said, nearly fangirling over the picture.

“I mean I already know that Cyrus is adorable so,” TJ shrugged, giving into the fact that Amber was never going to let this go.

“No, like, you guys are legitimate couple goals,”

“Not a couple,”

“Yet,” Amber replied, not missing a beat.

* * *

 

“So,” Andi started, plucking a fry from the basket, “you and TJ?”

Cyrus groaned, bringing his forehead down onto the table. “Why does everyone phrase it like that, like we’re dating! We’re not!”

Andi was taken aback, chewing on her fries in confusion. “I just meant that you guys were having a fun time here, but _dating_ , okay, let’s go there,”

“Let’s not,” Cyrus pleaded, picking his head up.

“Too late,” Andi chuckled.

Cyrus pouted, crossing his arms. “I don’t wanna talk about ‘us’,” he groaned, using air quotes.

“I’m, like ninety-nine percent sure he likes you, Cy,” Andi insisted, drumming her fingers on the table, “have you seen the way he looks at you?”

“. . .yeah, right, whatever,” Cyrus mumbled, taking another fry from the basket.

“I’m serious,”

“Hush,”

“But do you like him?”

And there it was; the loaded question that was there lurking in the shadows, but now it was on full display. He really didn’t want to answer, because heck, he didn’t even know how to answer it. So he stayed silent.

“Aha! So you _do_ like him!” Andi clapped her hands together.

“I never said that! TJ’s my best friend,” Cyrus defended, taking the last fry in defiance.

“Cyrus, be honest. You don’t think that there could be something more there?” she asked, searching his face for some sort of answer.

“. . .no,” Cyrus said meekly, almost like he was disappointed, but not quite. His voice didn’t wobble, and he said it with as much confidence as he could.

Andi shrugged, tossing the empty basket into the trash can. “Whatever you say,” she chirped, getting up from her seat, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Cy,”

He gave her a wave as a good-bye, and turned his attention back to the ferris wheel, watching people go around and around. Couples, kids, parents with their little ones, all smiling and laughing. He sighed, silently hoping that one day he’d get to do that with someone special.

* * *

 

_6/25_

_Today Cyrus and I went to the fair, and it was so much fun! I played a basketball game and won him a dinosaur, and he played a dart game and gave me the stuffed basketball he won. Well, in truth I helped him a little bit, but his face when I said ‘you did it!’ was priceless. We ran into Amber and Andi, and we all went on the ferris wheel. Admittedly, I’m afraid of heights, but Cyrus was there with me, telling me that things were okay, and to just look at him, which helped. I was worried he’d think I’m weak, but he said he’d love me no matter what. You know, like friends do._

TJ sighed, shutting his journal and setting it on his nightstand. That little moment had meant everything to him, and even if he wanted it to go further or mean something more, deep down, he knew it didn’t. It was just a thing friends said to each other, like when Amber would text Cyrus and end the conversation with ‘love you!’.

**[Underdog <3: so for tmrw, there’s free painting classes where the art gallery was that day! do you wanna come?]**

TJ smiled, butterflies erupting in his stomach no matter how hard he tried to quell them.

**[Me: totally! when is it?]**

**[Underdog <3: around noon, sound good?]**

**[Me: i’m there]**

TJ turned off the lamp on his nightstand, shutting his eyes and trying to go to sleep. But even though it was late, and he was relatively tired, he couldn’t stop thinking. Thinking of Cyrus. Thinking about what they ‘were’. Friends, he supposed. Best friends.

* * *

 

_6/25_

_TJ and I went to the fair today and it was so much fun! He won me this giant dinosaur stuffed animal and I love it! It’s sitting in my chair in my room right now. I tried to win him a stuffed basketball with a game of darts, but he helped me so much that he basically won it. We saw Amber and Andi there, and then all four of us went on the ferris wheel and it was so much fun! It was kinda dark when we were at the top, but I could still see TJ’s green eyes. They’re pretty nice._

And there it was again; Cyrus focusing on TJ’s eyes. “It’s a normal thing,” he told himself, flipping to the back and jotting down the notes he’d written in his phone. Naz. What a lovely word to describe him and TJ. They would love each other no matter what. Love, like friends do, of course. Because that’s what they were.

Friends.


	11. Anam Cara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anam cara (n.): "soul friend"; a person with whom you can share your deepest thoughts, feelings, and dreams with

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> songs i listened to for this one: distance by christina perri, a drop in the ocean by ron pope, and alyssa greene from the prom musical

TJ pulled up to where the art gallery was back at the beginning of June. Cyrus had spent the entire ride freaking out that things weren’t going to look good, or that he was going to spill paint all over his clothes and he was never going to be able to get it out.

“Oh please, I’ve seen your sketches, don’t be such a humblebrag,” TJ scoffed, putting the car in park, “if anyone’s gonna suck at this, it’s gonna be me,”

Cyrus gave him a punch to the shoulder. “Yeah, right. Whatever you say,” he mumbled, getting out of the car, “at least it’s not too hot outside,”

“Would your skin burn under the harsh rays, Snow White?” TJ joked, earning a pouty grin from Cyrus.

“How you wound me,” he tutted, shaking his head, “that could have been the final straw of our friendship,”

TJ chuckles, pulling out his phone after a buzz. Amber had sent him a picture of a note on the fridge that he hadn’t seen. It was from his mom, saying that she’d be away for two days for a high school reunion. He smiled, pocketing his phone.

“C’mon, we’re going to be late,” Cyrus whined, grabbing the hem of TJ’s shirt and tugging him along.

“Wow, you might just replace Walker as the most artistic in the gang, huh?” TJ jeered, stumbling as Cyrus dragged him along.

“Shut up, you know you love me for all of my quirks,” Cyrus laughed, letting go of TJ’s shirt and rushing to an easel.

 _Yeah, I know_ , TJ thought, picking the easel next to Cyrus.

Their instructor, a man with short white hair, and a top that was speckled in paint of every color, walked them through all their colors and types of brushes. TJ looked utterly lost, unable to retain anything the man had said, while Cyrus followed along with relative ease.

“And remember, there are no mistakes, just happy little accidents,” he said, grabbing a paintbrush from his jar.

“This is some Bob Ross bullshit,” TJ muttered, sifting through his brushes to try and find one that the instructor had picked up.

“Language,” Cyrus sighed, plucking a brush from his jar, and helping TJ find his.

Cyrus had no problem following the teacher, keeping up with him with ease, and enjoying himself along the way. TJ, on the other hand, was starting to regret saying yes to this. He couldn’t keep track of all the colors, using the knife made him nervous, and he didn’t know which brushes to use for which technique.

“This is hopeless,” he groaned, setting his brush down and turning to Cyrus, who was clearly concentrating, evident from the fact that his tongue was sticking out.

“It’s not hopeless,” Cyrus said without looking up until he’d finished his strokes, “let me help,” he offered, setting his brush down and grabbing TJ’s. He took the other boy’s hand and placed it on the brush, guiding him along the process. “Just like. . .that,” he said softly, the emerald green he’d chosen gliding along the bottom edge of the easel. It was the same green as TJ’s eyes, he’d noticed. When the brush stopped moving, TJ looked to Cyrus, finding himself getting lost in every detail about him.

Suddenly someone dropped their jar of brushes, causing the glass to shatter, as well as whatever was happening between Cyrus and TJ. Both boys were startled, jumping apart and returning to their respective paintings. TJ, even the jokester, dipped his brush in the red and pretended to look at it intensely.

“Is there something weird with my brush?” he asked, turning to Cyrus.

Cyrus looked up from his work, squinting and taking a step towards the brush to examine it further. “Hm, I don’t think so,” he mused. TJ moved the brush forward, tapping Cyrus on the nose with a dot of red.

“Whatever you say, Rudolph,” he laughed, putting a hand on his forehead.

Cyrus pouted, reaching up with his hand and swiping off as much paint as he could. Lunging forward, he swiped it on TJ’s cheek, laughing until he couldn’t breathe, proud of his efforts. “Aw, you’re blushing,” he cooed, clapping his hands together.

TJ rolled his eyes, grabbing one of the rags from his collection of supplies and reaching up to wipe the paint off his face. “Touché,” he countered, setting the rag back down, and returning to his painting. They’d missed a few steps in the paint battle, so TJ tried to look around and copy what other people had done. Once he was satisfied with it, he took a step back. It looked kind of like the instructor’s, just not as clean. He took one look at Cyrus’ and groaned.

“I swear to god, Walker’s got a run for his money,” he shook his head, pointing to Cyrus’ easel, “that’s amazing,”

Cyrus ducked his head, trying to dodge the compliment. “It’s alright. I really like yours. It’s different, but in a good way. Unique,”

“You can have it,” TJ said suddenly, taking it off of the easel and handing it to Cyrus, “really,”

“Fine, but you’re keeping mine,” Cyrus said, swapping the paintings, “this is going in my room,”

“Ditto,” TJ beamed, admiring the piece of art in front of him, as well as the painting.

* * *

 

Marty threw the basketball towards the hoop, missing it slightly. Groaning he chased after it, dribbling it back to the free throw line, and when he looked up, he saw Buffy waiting at the entrance, almost hesitating.

“Hey,” Marty said quietly, holding the ball between his arm and his torso.

“I think we should talk about it,” she said abruptly. Leave it to Buffy to ignore small talk and cut to the chase.

“I’d rather not,” Marty deadpanned, dribbling the ball absentmindedly.

Buffy sighed, leaning against the bench. “Look Marty, I don’t hate you or anything like that. iI was surprised. No one’s ever felt like that about me,” she admitted, looking down at her sneakers.

“So now what? We just pretend that never happened and move on?” Marty said, frustrated.

“I know I don’t like expressing my feelings but here we go,” she started, puffing out a breath,  “Marty, I like you, like a lot. Being in a relationship with you has given me some of the best moments of my life. But love. . .I don’t really know what that is. Yeah, I love my friends, and I love my parents, but like, love like this? I just, I don’t know what it feels like,” she explained, “sorry,”

“Don’t be,” he said quickly, holding his breath slightly to refrain from crying, “don’t be sorry. Feelings are complicated, I can respect that,”

“I just. . .I don’t want to say something that I’m not totally sure that I mean,” she explained, knitting her hands together.

Marty nodded, smiling weakly. “I know, I get that,”

Buffy smiled softly, giving Marty’s hand a squeeze, “You up for some hoops?” she asked, taking the ball from Marty.

Marty smirked, swiping the ball right back. “Game on,”

* * *

 

Andi sifted through her box of beads, setting aside a small collection of pink and red ones. She wove some of the light pink and deep crimson strands together.

“Knock knock,” Bex said, crouching down and coming into AndiShack, “whatcha up to?”

“Making a bracelet for Amber,” she replied, not looking up from her work.

“Uh oh, another bracelet? Do you want another box?” Bex asked, partially jokingly.

Andi waved her off, tying off the loose ends and admiring her handiwork. “Don’t worry. I’m sure about this one,”

“You guys cleared things up?” Bex asked, looking out through the small evening and admiring the evening.

“I think so. Things with her mom are tough, so we’re trying to keep this on the down low, if you know what I mean,” she explained.

Bex brought two fingers to the corner of her mouth, dragging them across and flicking the imaginary key away. She let herself out, leaving Andi alone. She tied on the beads at the loose ends, and made a few tassels. Smiling at her work, she took it up to her room, planning to give it to Amber when she saw her again.

* * *

 

TJ thought he was dreaming when he heard his phone ringing, but in reality, it really was ringing. Groggily, he reached over and picked it up off his nightstand. It was almost two in the morning and Cyrus was calling him. Either Cyrus was drunk and had no idea what he was doing, or there was actually something the matter. Considering Cyrus didn’t even want to cut a few minutes of class, he doubted it was the former.

“Hello? Cyrus? Is everything okay?” he mustered, voice thick with sleep.

“I can’t sleep,” Cyrus said quickly. Wow, Cyrus sure had a lot more energy at two in the morning than expected. It sounded like he’d just downed a whole gallon of coffee.

“That makes one of us,” he groaned, rubbing his eyes.

“Also I’m outside your house,” he added nonchalantly.

That seemed to perk TJ up, feeling his head spin at the sudden movement. “ _What_?”

“Come outside, please?” Cyrus practically begged, and TJ was almost sure that he was pouting on the other end, “I like talking to you in person more than on the phone,”

TJ sighed, putting on his glasses, getting up and padding down the stairs quietly. “Only because it’s you,” he whispered, not wanting to wake Amber. He ended the phone call, slipping it into his sweatpants pocket, and opened the door slowly. And sure enough, Cyrus was standing outside, rocking back on his heels.

“Any reason you’re here at two in the morning?” TJ yawned, struggling to stay upright.

Cyrus shrugged. “I just. . .couldn’t fall asleep,” he admitted.

TJ nodded. “So you thought to call me?”

Cyrus nodded sheepishly, almost like he was embarrassed to say ‘yes’. Even with the dim porch light, TJ knew that he felt bad for waking him, but he didn’t want Cyrus to feel guilty.

“Don’t feel bad. I know a place we can go. C’mon,” he said, grabbing Cyrus’ hand and leading him into the backyard. The Kippens had a tree house built back when Amber and TJ were little, but it hadn’t been used for a while. TJ had no idea why he didn’t just bring Cyrus inside, but the tree house just seemed like a good idea. Both boys climbed the ladder, blindly reaching for the next rung, before they stumbled into the tree house. TJ tried to push away as many loose leaves as possible into the corners, making room for him and Cyrus. TJ lied down, patting the spot next to him for Cyrus to lie down.

“Penny for your thoughts?” TJ offered, putting his hands behind his head. He looked over at Cyrus, who seemed to be struggling with what to say. “You can tell me anything, you know,”

“You’re gonna think I’m going through some existential crisis,” Cyrus admitted, breathing out shakily. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea; maybe spilling secrets and worries at two in the morning was not one of his most well thought-out plans.

“Try me,” TJ assured him, turning his head to face him.

“Do you ever feel like your life is just. . .meaningless?” he started, “like you go through the same activities, day in and day out, only to go to sleep and wake up the next day and repeat them?”

TJ furrowed his brows. “Not. . .in particular. I don’t really think about things like that. Tend to live in the moment,” he supplied.

Cyrus rolled onto his stomach, propping up his head with his hands and elbows. “I mean, I’m 16, and I haven’t even had my first kiss. . .”

“What about Iris?” TJ jumped in, “didn’t you kiss her?”

“She kissed me,” Cyrus admitted, “fine, first proper kiss, you know, with a boy. I haven’t done anything insane, like jump off a bridge, or-”

“-you wanna jump off a bridge?” TJ cut in again, quirking a brow.

“Not the point,” Cyrus dismissed him, blowing out a breath, “I mean like. . .I feel so small and unimportant. I’ve never done anything radical enough to make an impact on someone’s life and I’m too much of a coward to do that,” he admitted, his lower lip wobbling, “I just feel like, what’s the point, you know?”

TJ snapped up, nearly pulling a muscle in his neck. “Are you kidding me? You’re my favorite person in the world. You are so important to me, that I have no idea what I’d do without you,” TJ promised him, trying to meet his gaze. Even though it was dark, he could tell Cyrus was avoiding looking at him.

Cyrus shook his head, almost smiling. “Sometimes I just feel like I’m invisible, you know? Like nobody would notice if I just,” he paused, wiping away a stray tear, “disappeared tomorrow. Sure, there would be an empty seat in the classrooms, but eventually I’d just fade from other people’s memories. Everything just seems so fleeting and insignificant. Like I’m like one drop in the ocean,”

TJ sat listening to him, his lips slightly parted in shock as he absorbed everything Cyrus had said. He never knew he felt like this; did he even know his best friend at all? He reached out, taking Cyrus’ hands in his.

“Cyrus, I care about you so much, I hope you know that. You have made such an impact on my life, you can’t even begin to comprehend. And when you think lowly of yourself, I feel like I’m breaking,” he admitted giving his hand a squeeze, “you matter to me. You are so important. If you never get around to doing some remarkable thing, that doesn’t mean that you’re not worth remembering,”

Cyrus bit down harshly on his lower lip, giving him a watery smile. “I feel weird saying all of this,” he said through a laugh, “you probably think I’m insane,”

TJ shook his head, giving Cyrus’ hands a pat before removing his own. “I mean,” he shrugged, “occasionally I will, not that often,” he admitted, “I just. . .I don’t want to be forgotten, you know? Like I want to make some sort of impact on the world in my life,”

Cyrus listened, slightly in awe. He’d never really seen this side of TJ, and something told him not many people did, so he felt quite special and honored that TJ was sharing this side of him with Cyrus. “It doesn’t need to be a huge thing, you know. I mean, I know I’ll never forget you,” he whispered, as if almost afraid to say anything. It was rare to see Cyrus like this.

TJ nodded, carding his fingers through his hair. “I know, I know. I try not to think about it that much. Stresses me out,” he said, the two of them settling into a comfortable silence.

“Thanks,” Cyrus said after a pause, “it’s really nice getting to talk to you like this. Like I’m not worried about being judged or ridiculed because. .  .it’s you. You’re the one person in my life I can tell anything,”

TJ knew he was blushing, hard. Thank goodness for the dark, he supposed. Cyrus smiled at him, something TJ could make out, even if it was in a black hole. And even in the dim, if not insignificant amount of light, Cyrus could picture TJ’s green eyes, brilliant as ever.

“We’re like soul,” he paused, biting his tongue, “. . .friends,” he finished.

“Huh, soul friends. I kinda like that,” Cyrus smiled, pulling out his phone and squinting at its light, “wouldn’t wanna forget that,” he mumbled, turning it off.

“You should probably be getting back home. Wouldn’t want your parents to worry about you,” TJ said, leaning back on his elbows.

“Actually, they think I’m at Andi’s for a sleepover,” he replied, leaving TJ a bit stunned.

“So are you actually sleeping over at Andi’s?”

Cyrus shrugged. “I took stuff there to make it look like it. And I did plan to sleep over, initially, but then I couldn’t sleep and so I told her I was going out for a little bit to see you. . .and also that I probably wouldn’t come back till morning to get my stuff,” he added cheekily.

“So. . .?” TJ waited for him to finish the sentence, a small smirk growing on his face.

“Can I stay here?” he asked, pouting.

TJ pretended to think it over. “Totally. Do you wanna go inside and I c-”

“-can we stay in here, actually?” Cyrus asked, his voice small and almost hesitant.

“Of course,” TJ assured him, patting his shoulder, “you can lean on me, since I guess sleeping on the wood isn’t that comfortable,” he admitted.

“Thanks,” Cyrus murmured, his head fitting perfectly in the crook of TJ’s next. He felt his stomach dancing, and although he was sleepy, he felt more alive than he’d ever been. He gingerly pulled out his friend and searched:

_soul friend_

Apparently there was a word for that as well.

_anam cara: “soul friend”; a person with whom you can share your deepest thoughts, feelings, and dreams with_

Yup, that was TJ. Someone he could tell absolutely anything, and wouldn’t have to worry about being judged or ridiculed. Someone who he depended on for so many things, and also someone who came through whenever he needed him. He supposed this was how Jonah felt about Walker, or Amber about Andi, or Marty about Buffy, but they were different. They were couples; he and TJ. . .they were just a couple of friends. A couple of kids.

TJ was already softly snoring, clearly exhausted. Cyrus shut his eyes, feeling TJ’s steady breathing and gentle heartbeat. It was nice, consistent, rhythmic. Cyrus found that whatever feeling had previously overwhelmed him with energy was now gone, replaced by a sense of calmness and tranquility. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, draping an arm over TJ’s chest in the meanwhile.


	12. Kalon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kalon (n.): beauty that is more than skin deep

Light poured into the tree house the next morning through all the leaves. Patches of warm, golden sunlight patterned the boys. A strip of light fell across Cyrus’ face, causing him to stir a little and out stretch his limbs. He hit something, or rather someone, and was a little startled to note TJ was there with him. He blinked his eyes a few times, remembering the events of last night. Smiling to himself, he rested on his arm, looking at TJ, who was still sleeping.

Up close he was able to see all his freckles; a small collection by his ear, a few on his right cheek, and a smatter of them across his nose. His glasses had slid off during the night, seeing at they were a few feet away from him. His hair that was normally neatly combed back was sticking out in all different directions, some of it coming down and hiding some of his forehead. His long lashes brushed his skin ever so lightly, the stark contrast of the dark lashes against his fair skin evident in the light. His nose, a little upturned, blowing out soft puffs of air as he slept. It was really cute.

Wait. No. Not cute. It wasn’t cute.

Cyrus tried to shake that possibility out of his head, but it didn’t want to leave. The word cute seemed to now be permanently ingrained in his brain. He felt his heart hitting his ribcage, feeling like he was going to break his bones, it was beating so hard. He scrambled off of TJ, pushing his arm hard enough to wake him up, stretching his arms up towards one edge of the tree house.

“Sorry, I-I didn’t mean to wake you,” Cyrus stammered, rubbing the back of his neck, “I-I just realized that I have to get my stuff from Andi’s house,” he lied. Okay, well it wasn’t a complete lie.

TJ rubbed his eyes, reaching and grabbing his glasses. “Oh, okay. Do you wanna get some breakfast? I can m-”

“-no, that’s fine,” Cyrus cut in quickly, scrambling to his feet, “I’m not huge on breakfast,”

“You inhale pancakes like a vacuum,” TJ mumbled, propping himself up on his elbows.

“I’m not hungry,” he lied again, “I’ll see you later,” he mumbled, climbing down the first few rungs of the ladder and jumping onto the ground. He started running towards Andi’s house, leaving behind a very confused and slightly hurt TJ.

* * *

 

TJ shut the door, rubbing his eyes as he strolled into the kitchen. “Morning,” he mumbled, seeing Amber already making breakfast, “pancakes?”

Amber nodded, flipping one over with a satisfying sizzle. “Why were you outside?” she asked, setting the spatula aside, “go for an early morning run?”

TJ shook his head, grabbing a pancake off the top of the stack and taking a bite out of it. “Cyrus came by last night at around two in the morning. Said he couldn’t sleep,” he explained as he chewed, “so we went up in the tree house and talked and then we fell asleep,”

Amber shook her head, ladling another spoonful of batter onto the griddle. “Why are you guys actually dating,” she mused, a smile dancing on her lips.

“We’re not,” he groaned, “he left this morning in a hurry, like he just didn’t want to be around me,”

“You know that’s so far from the truth,” Amber reminded him, “Cyrus really cares about you, and loves spending time with you. I’m more mature so I should know,”

“Should but shorn’t,” TJ mumbled, grabbing another pancake and heading upstairs.

* * *

 

Cyrus paced outside Jonah’s door, waiting for it to open. What if he didn’t answer? What if he thought something was seriously wrong and didn’t want to be bothered by him? Ah, the many thoughts of an anxiety-ridden teenager.

“Cy, what’s up?” Jonah greeted him, ushering him inside.

“We have a problem,” Cyrus groaned, slipping off his shoes and taking a seat on the couch. He pulled his knees into his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs.

“Care to explain?” Jonah asked, grabbing some pretzels from the kitchen and pouring them into a bowl. He set them down on the table and took a seat by Cyrus.

“I hate emotions. They’re too confusing,” he mumbled, taking a pretzel and nibbling on it like a squirrel.

“You’re telling me,” Jonah chuckled, “what’s this about?”

 _And here we go_ , Cyrus thought to himself. He knew exactly what it was about, but he didn’t want to say it out loud. Because saying it out loud would make it real. And that scared him

“TJ,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. He honestly hoped that Jonah didn’t hear him over the crunching of his pretzels, but given his shift in expression, he probably did.

“Oh?” Jonah smirked, setting the pretzels aside and batting his lashes, “tell me everything,”

Cyrus shoved him gently; was it really that obvious? “I think I have a small crush on TJ and I don’t want to talk about it,” he stated, his cheeks turning a shade pinker at the mention of TJ. Now he remembered why he hated having crushes so much.

“Small?” Jonah challenged, raising his brows.

“Fine, not so small. Leave me alone,” he pouted, putting his head between his knees.

“So you’re here because. . .?” Jonah trailed.

Cyrus sighed, bringing his head up slightly. “Sorry. I don’t mean to take this out on you,” he apologized, “I just. . .don’t know who else to come to about this,”

“You didn’t think to go to Andi or Buffy?” Jonah asked.

Cyrus shook his head, wincing at the very idea. “They already think we should be dating. If I told them that I liked him, they’d go berserk and probably tell him,”

Jonah nodded, seeming to understand. “So, what are you gonna do? About the TJ thing,”

Cyrus looked at him like he’d just suggested to commit a murder. “Do? Nothing. Just sit and pine hopelessly until this crush thing blows over,” he supplied. _Just like I did with you._

“Look,” Jonah hesitated, “I know I can be oblivious, but like. . .you gotta admit,”

Cyrus let out another groan, putting his hands over his face. “Not you too,” he whined.

“Sorry,” Jonah mumbled, running his fingers down the groove of the couch.

Cyrus waved him off, offering a sympathetic smile. “It’s fine. It’s just. . .complicated. He’s my best friend, and I don’t wanna ruin things between us,”

“I’ll try not to feel too hurt that he’s your _best_ friend,” Jonah chuckled, “If he’s really your best friend, and he doesn’t return feelings, things will still be okay between you guys. I promise,” he assured Cyrus, “I mean, we’re still friends,”

Cyrus quirked a brow. “What?”

Jonah laughed, putting a hand on Cyrus’ shoulder. “You think I didn’t know you had a crush on me?”

Cyrus was stunned, to say the least. Jonah Oblivious Beck knew that he had a crush on him. “Did Buffy tell you? Andi?”

Jonah shook his head. “I’m not blind, dude. I didn’t wanna tell you until you were over it so I didn’t freak you out,” he explained, “and if you wanted to tell me, things weren’t gonna change, you know,”

Cyrus felt like he was going to faint, or worse, start crying. “Oh,” is the only thing he said, embarrassed beyond words.

“Seriously, don’t worry about it. You’re over it, I’m with Walker and you’re. . .basically with TJ,” he chuckled.

Cyrus rolled his eyes. “If by basically you mean basically friends, then yeah, sure,”

“Whatever you say,” Jonah said, shaking his head.

* * *

 

“Chocolate is the best of all flavors,” Amber argued, looking to Walker, “back me up on this?”

Walker looked between the girls, Amber with chocolate ice cream and Andi with strawberry. Andi gave him a knowing look, bringing up a finger and dragging it across her throat.

“You know, best is a strong word,” he dodged the question, returning to his mint-chocolate, “I don’t think there really is a best,”

Andi rolled her eyes. “I could be ten dollars richer here,” she mumbled, taking a bite out of her ice cream.

“If I say chocolate, will you split the money with me?” Walker asked, earning a glare from Amber.

“You weren’t supposed to tell him,” she pouted, “that’s not fair,”

Andi shrugged, getting some of the chocolate ice cream around her mouth and on her nose. “Life’s fair because it’s unfair to everyone.” she mused.

Amber sighed, finishing off her ice cream and grabbing a napkin. “You need it,” she noted, reaching over and wiping the other girl’s face.

“Thanks,” Andi mumbled, finishing off her ice cream and reaching into her pocket, “here, this is for you,” she said. Andi pulled out the bracelet, showing it to Amber who instantly took it into her hands.

“After the last debacle of the bracelets, you made me one?” she said, although it came out more like a question. Her fingers gingerly brushed over the intricate weaving, holding the delicate tassels in her hands.

“This one’s different. I’m sure of it,” she assured her, taking the bracelet back and tying it around Amber’s wrist.

“You guys do make a cute couple,” Walker cut in, smiling.

“If you’re trying to get back on my good side, it’s not working,” Amber chuckled, tossing the napkin in the trash.

“If I’m being honest, mint-chip is the best,”

Both girls turned towards him, bewildered expressions on their faces. “Walker!”

* * *

 

_6/27_

_Today I talked to jonah about me and TJ. I think that I’m starting to have a small crush on him. Okay, that’s a lie, it’s a normal crush. . .fine, a big crush. I have a crush on my best friend and I don’t know what to do about it. Obviously I’m not blind, I can see that TJ’s objectively attractive, but it’s so much more than that. He’s so kind, and thoughtful, and radiates so much confidence that it’s infectious. His beauty is far more than skin deep._

He paused, taking out his phone and googling his last phrase.

_beauty that is more than skin deep_

The word popped up underneath, and Cyrus flipped to the back of his journal to jot it down.

_kalon: beauty that is more than skin deep_

Returning back to the journal entry, he tapped his pen against the paper, unsure of what else to write. Nothing was coming to him; for once, he was at a loss for words. Setting his journal aside, he grabbed his phone and opened another tab.

_search: i think i like my best friend_

_search: what to do if i have a crush on my best friend_

_search: my best friend and i are gay and i think i like him_

_search: how to get over a crush on your best friend_

_search: do i like my best friend quiz_

_search: does he like me or does he just want to be friends quiz_

After what felt like hours scouring the internet, Cyrus felt like he was still nowhere. All the sites and quizzes said that it was possible that TJ could like him, but there was still that hint of uncertainty. And that was precisely what was holding him back. That little thread of insecurity, the soft but persistent ‘what if’ lingering in the back of his mind.

“I like TJ,” he whispered to himself. It felt . . . all the more real now that he’d finally said it. Because now it existed not only as a part of his mind, but outside of his mind. It was out there; and that scared him more than anything.

* * *

 

_6/27_

_I don’t know what to do about Buffy. I think ever since this ‘I love you’ thing, things have been weird between us. I feel like we can’t hang out like usual, and I miss that. I miss all the little things that came with being us, being Buffy and Marty. Randomly racing each other to the end of the streets. Seeing who could make the best grilled cheese. Who could go the longest without crying at a movie. I miss everything. Do we need a break? Are we better off as friends?_

Marty let out a frustrated breath, and shut his journal, tossing it onto his desk. Grabbing his pair of sneakers from under his desk, he came down the stairs and headed outside. He started running, trying to clear his head, turning left and not stopping until he collided with someone and was on the ground.

“Watch it,” came the other voice, and Marty thought he had really hit his head hard.

“Buffy?”

“Marty?”

The two of them stared at each other; Buffy also sported sneakers and athletic wear. Evidently, she was also going for a run.

“Um. . .hi,” he managed, regaining his sense of breath.

“Hey,” she said, helping him to his feet, “you okay?”

Marty nodded, knowing fully he was lying. “I-uh, yeah, yeah totally. I’m totally and completely. . .fine,” he cracked, blowing out a puff of air.

“Marty,” Buffy said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder, “just. . .say what’s on your mind,”

“I don’t know about. . .us,” he whispered after a pause, gesturing vaguely.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I said I loved you, for fuck’s sake,” he grumbled, screwing his eyes tight and willing himself not to cry, “doesn’t that. . .freak you out a little?”

Buffy hesitated, her hand lingering on his shoulder. “I mean. . .I was a little surprised, but I still like you a lot, Marty. I’m just not sure about love. I don’t know what it’s like,” she admitted, knitting her hands together.

Marty kept his head down; he knew the moment he met her eyes he would start crying, and he was not about to do that. “I get it,” he deadpanned. He wondered if biology could explain this pain he felt in his chest; he was fairly certain it wasn’t from the writing.

“We’re still us, right? Buffy and Marty?” Buffy asked, linking her pinky with Marty’s.

Marty nodded, smiling weakly. “Yeah. Still us,”

Buffy unlinked their pinkies and pulled him in for a hug. She could feel him nearly collapse underneath him, and she didn’t pull away. She felt more out of breath than she did when she was running, and worried that her heart was pounding so hard that she was going to bruise Marty’s ribcage. It was a surge of emotions she hadn’t felt before, and that scared her.

Marty pulled back, giving her a nod before taking off for the rest of his run, a little bruised from the fall. Buffy stood there, frozen, watching as her boyfriend shrunk in the distance. She put a hand over her heart, feeling it flutter. Her chest ached with a sense of longing; she wanted nothing more right now than to be with Marty. Sitting with him, holding his hand, watching a movie, peppering him with kisses whenever it got boring. . .

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath, turning on her heel to go home, “shit, shit, shit,” she whispered, shaking her head as if it could get rid of this feeling. This strange feeling that she’d never felt before. It felt eerily similar to. . .no. She wasn’t going to say it; she didn’t even want to say it. Once she said it, it was like the paint drying; permanent, and couldn’t be undone.

_Great._


	13. La Douleur Exquise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> la douleur exquise (n.): the heart-wrenching pain of wanting the affection of someone unattainable

_You get to exhale now, Simon. . ._

Cyrus blinked away his tears, silently cursing himself for crying. He’d probably seen the movie a million times, and still failed to get through it with dry eyes. That little phrase of words was all that he needed to start the waterworks. He reached for his nightstand, where he had a bowl of ice cream, slightly melted. He took note of his situation; it really did look as though he’d gone through a breakup. Well. . .nevermind. He wasn’t going through a breakup. He was just drowning his sorrows in gay movies and ice cream.

Yeah, okay, he was trying to break up with his crush on TJ.

TJ seemed to be the only thing he could think of. TJ this, TJ that, and it hurt. Not even emotionally, but physically; it was like he could feel his chest collapsing under him. It hurt knowing that he couldn’t get affection from probably the only person he really wanted it from. It was like this awful, physical pain in his chest. Pausing the movie, he opened up another tab, searching away.

_wanting affection from someone impossible_

He squinted at the words for a minute, pronouncing them in his head and then out loud. Good thing he’d taken a few years of French.

_la douleur exquise: the heart-wrenching pain of wanting the affection of someone unattainable_

He jotted it down in his journal, along with a quick note about pronunciation beside it, and put it back on his nightstand. His hand lingered on the spacebar of his laptop, hesitant to restart the movie. Did he really want to watch the rest of it? Watch and see how this guy gets the guy, when he knew that he wouldn’t. It was painful; it was painful knowing that TJ was gay, because that just made his stupid heart try and convince him he had a chance.

Which he didn’t. Because why would TJ like a dorky little nerd like Cyrus when he could have someone better? Cyrus could probably name a few guys off the top of his head that had better chances to TJ than he did.

_search: how to get over a crush on your best friend_

* * *

 

“No, over _then_ under,” Andi instructed, reaching over, “here let me help you,” she offered, taking Amber’s hands and guiding them properly. Her touch was gentle and feathery, making Amber melt inside.

“What would I do without you?” Amber wondered out loud, letting Andi take almost full control of the craft.

Andi giggled, adding another strand of yellow. “Probably die,” she joked, “so, if you don’t mind me asking, how are things with your mom?”

Amber shrugged, playing with a bead in her hand. “They’re fine as long as I don’t tell her about us or anything that has to do with me being a lesbian,” she said through a laugh.

Andi frowned, setting the bracelet aside. “I’m sorry about that. People really should learn to be open,”

“I know,” Amber agreed, sifting through Andi’s small pot of beads, “that’s why she got all pissed when TJ was hanging out with Cyrus,”

“What?” Andi questioned, studying Amber’s face, “what do you mean?”

“Don’t tell him I told you this, but like, she made him stop hanging out with Cyrus because he’s gay,” she said softly, as though TJ were waiting right outside AndiShack.

Andi pouted, moving over to the beanbag. “That’s terrible. Cyrus loves TJ,” she blurted out. The words were out of her mouth before she could even think to stop them.

“He. . .what?” Amber stammered, plopping down by Andi’s side.

“Well I think,” she admitted, rubbing her arm, “I know Cyrus cares about him a whole lot,”

“TJ is so whipped for Cyrus,” Amber chuckled, leaning her her on Andi’s shoulder.

“I’m shocked,” she deadpanned, linking her hand with Amber’s.

* * *

 

TJ ran a hand through his hair, sighing. It’d been one of the rare days where he hadn’t really seen Cyrus, so he occupied himself by going to the kids’ gym. He didn’t work there regularly anymore, but he still enjoyed the company of the kids. Plus, it was nice that he got to talk openly about Cyrus while he was there.

He pushed open the door to his house, slipping off his shoes. Looking up, he saw a familiar figure making coffee, a luggage bag by the door. And all of a sudden, he wished the air conditioner wasn’t working because his blood ran cold.

“How was the reunion?” he finally spoke, getting her attention. He pulled out a stool from under the kitchen island, taking a seat.

“Good. Nice to see friends after not having seen them for a while,” she drawled, toasting herself a piece of bread, “People came with their fiancees, some of them with their kids. . .”

TJ didn’t mean to zone out, but all he could think about was, well, take a wild guess. He got distracted, thinking about Cyrus and all the things the kids at the gym said.

_You should invite him over again!_

_Isn’t he your boyfriend? You talk about him all the time._

_Oh, so that’s who’s with you in your phone background!_

_TJ and Cyrus sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!_

“TJ?” his mom cut through his thoughts, her worried eyes searching for answers, “is everything okay? You seem out of it,”

“Huh?” he breathed out, blinking a few times. He felt so tired, physically yes, but, just in general. It was as though every word around her took all his effort; he was always walking on eggshells.

“Honey,” she started, taking a seat by him, “it seems as though. . .more and more you seem to be holding your breath. Like there’s something you need to say, but you’re not,” she placed a hand on his shoulder, “is it something about school? You know you can tell me anything,”

TJ shook his head, feeling nauseous with every movement. He could feel the words catching in his throat, but they were going to escape. It was all going to come out, like word vomit. He could feel tears budding at the corners of his eyes, but he willed them not to fall. He _knew_ things weren’t going to end up well, but what was the point of worrying anymore? What was the point of keeping this a secret anymore? He was tough; he could deal with weird looks and a bit of awkwardness for another two years.

“Mom. . .I’m gay,” he squeaked, swallowing thickly. Cool air surrounded the place where his mom’s hand used to rest. He could hear her take in a sharp breath, the room falling eerily silent after his remark. _Here we go._

“What?” she whimpered, almost hurt by his words, as if they’d cut her. As if her son had just said that he’d killed somebody.

“B-but I’m still me, you know? I’m still the same TJ,” he told her, his head hung low. He couldn’t bear to look at her expression, but if he had to bet, he was pretty sure it was one of disappointment and betrayal.

She put a hand to her chest, rubbing her collarbones. “No,” she whispered, her hands nearly trembling by now, “this isn’t my s-this isn’t _you_ TJ,”

“This _is_ me, you just refuse to acknowledge it,” he shot back, venom lacing his voice. For someone who was in a pretty bad situation, he seemed to have a lot of confidence in his voice. He held his breath, making sure to keep himself composed.

“. . .that Cyrus kid did this, didn’t he,” she shook, her voice trembling, and eyes glossed over with tears. There was almost a hint of disgust to her tone, an attacking angle.

That felt like worse than anything she could have said to him or about him. He took a step forward, his steely eyes meeting his mother’s watering ones. “Don’t you _dare_ say anything bad about him,” he demanded, his voice low and quiet.

“I told you he was a bad influence, I tried to warn you-”

“-I swear if you-”

The door opened, and Amber walked in, clearly a little confused about the situation. “What’s going on here?” she dared to ask, playing with the bracelet around her hand.

“Tell her,” TJ said smugly, looking at his mom, who looked almost too scared to speak.

“Amber, sweetie, your brother is. . .gay,” she shuddered, screwing her eyes tight as if that would erase the reality before her.

Amber’s eyes grew, gawking at TJ. Her face read ‘you told her?’,  and she looked more worried than shocked.

TJ shook his head, moving towards the stairs. “I can’t be here right now,” he mumbled, starting up the first few.

“Where are you going?” his mom choked out, a few tears slipping down her cheeks. TJ didn’t respond, going into his room and shutting the door a little louder than needed. Amber exhaled shakily, smiling weakly at her mom.

“Amber, how are you, honey,” she cooed, reaching out to give her a hug. Amber tried to resist, she really did, but that would probably make the situation worse.

“I’m f-fine,” she stammered, pulling back, “I think I’ll. . .go up and work on some summer work,” she lied, bolting up the stairs and nearly colliding into TJ in the process.

“What the _fuck_ TJ?” she hissed, glancing at the bottom of the stairs to make sure her mom wasn’t there, “what the _hell_?”

TJ waved her off, acting like it was no big deal. “Long story, I’ll tell you later, Ambs. I’ll be okay. I’ll be back soon,”

Amber stared at the floor, squeezing her eyes tight. “Where are you gonna go?” she asked, rubbing her arm.

“Probably Cyrus’,” he sighed, “I. . .didn’t really think that far ahead, but I’m not about to turn back now,” he decided, “I’ll text you, though,”

Amber nodded, reaching forward and wrapping her arms around TJ, her hands digging into his back. She was crying against his shirt, and it’s not like Amber didn’t cry, but she didn’t do it around other people, unless she really trusted them. TJ had to peel her off of him, giving her a quick peck on the head before heading downstairs.

“Where are you going?” his mom asked, back to TJ as she scrubbed some non-existent stain on the counter.

“Shouldn’t matter to you,” he snapped, tugging on the strap of his bag, “I’ll be out of your hair,”

“TJ, I-”

“Save your breath,” he muttered, leaving the house and slamming the door shut. He walked down the steps, slowly, stopping when he reached the end of his driveway. He turned around, looking at the house in front of him. All the birthday parties, play-dates with friends, lazy days with Amber; all of them were trapped in that house. He sharply turned around, stomping into the concrete as if that would clear his head. He felt like everything was falling apart; it felt like no oxygen was reaching his lungs when he breathed. His heart might as well have not been beating.

As he rounded the corner, he pulled out his phone from his pocket, calling Cyrus. _Pick up, pick up, pick up,_ he prayed his pace quickening. He forgot how close he and Cyrus lived, because by the time he was a few steps away from the other boy’s house, the phone went to voicemail. TJ knocked on the door, a little frantically. He could feel his hands tremble, a lump surging into his throat. Great. Now when Cyrus would open the door, he’s see what a pathetic mess TJ was.

Footsteps grew louder and louder from the other side of the door, and TJ heard the door unlock. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or more nervous. As soon as TJ saw those brown eyes, lit up like a fire, he knew he was a goner. Cyrus didn’t even have a chance to say ‘hello’ before TJ dropped his bag and started to sob. All the snarkiness and cold exterior that he’d had at home was gone, and he was reduced to a puddle of tears. Cyrus quickly reached forward, tugging him inside and shutting the door. He grabbed TJ’s back without question, and led him upstairs, albeit shakily. It wasn’t easy for him to prop up an athlete who looked like he was ready to collapse. As soon as they entered his room, Cyrus shut the door, placing the bag down, and led TJ to his bed, where he collapsed onto the pillow, his cries muffled and heartbreaking.

TJ tried to explain things, through all his hiccuping. “I-I told my mom. . .t-that I was gay,” he choked out, tugging on his hair, “and I-I couldn’t s-stand it anymore, Cy. I just. . .b-broke,” he stammered, shaking his head vigorously.

“Any particular reason you chose to tell her?” he asked softly, rubbing the other boy’s  back soothingly. He didn’t mean to pry, but it was as though he could hear his parents voices in his head.

 _You_. “No,” TJ lied, hiccuping through a breath, “everything just kind of tumbled out,” he whimpered.

“You’re going to be okay,” Cyrus whispered, leaning in and pulling TJ in for a hug, “maybe not right now, but you will be. I promise, I’ll do whatever I can to make you feel better,”

Guilt pooled in his stomach as he remembered why he was here. “About that,” he mumbled, scrubbing at his tears, “I was, kind of sort of hoping, that maybe. . .I don’t know if you’d want-”

“-you can stay here,” Cyrus finished for him, smiling sympathetically, “I saw the bag, and then kind of figured after you told me what happened. Of course you can stay here, Teej,”

TJ thought he was going to collapse and start crying all over again; how was Cyrus so generous? It was unfair. “Thanks,” he mumbled, clearing his throat, “sorry. I just kind of came here and imposed on you,”

Cyrus shook his head, putting his hand on top of TJ’s. “You’re not imposing,” he murmured, cheeks turning pink at the touch, “please don’t feel about this, of all things to be upset about. I’m going to grab some pajamas to change into, I’ll be right back,” he said, giving TJ’s hand a squeeze and leaving him alone.

TJ sifted through his bag and dug out his journal; a few of the page corners had folded in the process of blind packing, but he didn’t care. He grabbed a pencil from Cyrus’ nightstand, flipped to the next page, and started writing.

_6/28_

_I didn’t think things could get worse at home, but I was wrong. I told my mom I was gay because. . .because I couldn’t stop the words from coming up. Everything seemed to spill out, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I felt awful, and my mom didn’t accept me, obviously. I thought things were going to get ugly, but then Amber walked in and ‘saved the day’. I was just so upset, I went upstairs and packed a bag and came to Cyrus’ house. I thought I could get through it without breaking down, but evidently, that was a lie. I’m so grateful that Cyrus is letting me stay with him for a little while. I really don’t deserve him._

He shut the journal, slipping it back in his bag as Cyrus came through the door. Donning gray sweatpants that were probably a size too big, as well as a shirt with some dinosaur cartoon on it, he looked damn adorable.

TJ shifted off the bed, kneeling down beside his bag and sifting through for his pajama shirt. Not even bothering to leave the room, or warn Cyrus for that matter, he slipped off his shirt and exchanged it for the other one. Cyrus had to swiftly turn around or he was worried he would faint.

“Thanks for letting me stay here again,” he mumbled, pulling out all his clothes from his bag and putting them in a pile.

“Of course. . .what are you doing?” Cyrus asked, arranging the bed neatly.

“Getting ready to sleep,” TJ said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Cyrus shook his head, getting down by TJ’s side and putting all the clothes back in his bag. “Bed’s big enough, we can share,” he stated, “there’s no way you’re winning this argument,” he tacked on, grabbing TJ’s hand and pulling him up to his feet.

“Fine,” TJ mumbled, getting under the covers and trying to take up as little space as possible, “night Cy,”

“Night, Teej,” he whispered, pulling the covers up to his neck.

TJ didn’t even try to fall asleep. He made no effort to try and forget about the events of today, instead choosing to linger on the worst parts. Tears pushed against his lashes, and he let them fall, trying to breathe as softly as possible, as to not wake Cyrus. He winced with each sniffle, and felt his heart sink when Cyrus turned towards him.

“Do you wanna talk about it more?” he whispered, “I’m here for you, you know,”

TJ shook his head, wiping his tears with the hem of his shirt. “I don’t think there’s anything else to say. Sorry for bothering you,” he whispered, his voice wavering.

Cyrus propped himself up a little on his elbows, shifting closer He could feel TJ’s warm and shaky breath on his face, and it was almost like he was in a daze, but TJ clearing his throat woke him out of that.

“You are never a bother, please hear that,” Cyrus begged, “you are so special to me,” he insisted. Hesitantly, he reached forward and gingerly wiped the other boy’s tears; every millisecond of contact made him feel dizzy with anticipation. Attempting another bold move, he laced his hand with TJ’s, laying back down.

“Night Teej,” he whispered, pulling the covers up with his free hand.

“. . .night, Cy,” TJ murmured, trying to shut his eyes and fall asleep, but failing. He couldn’t stop concentrating on the fact that _holy shit_ Cyrus Goodman is holding my hand. He peered over at Cyrus, who appeared to have fallen asleep in a heartbeat. Poor kid, must have been stressed as hell when TJ showed up at his door. TJ didn’t allow himself to linger too long on this, instead opting to remember that they were _holding hands_. That didn’t put a smile on his face, but did allow him to finally fall asleep.


	14. Querencia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> querencia (n.): a place from which one’s strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you are your most authentic self

A soft pattering of rain tapped against Cyrus’ window, crescendoing and getting softer at random intervals. Cyrus was eventually made aware of this, but didn’t want to open his eyes. He felt warm, safe, and a little lethargic, so he wasn’t in the mood for moving. But once he opened his eyes, boy was he glad he did.

TJ, snoring softly, lips slightly parted, was mere inches away from him. He looked like an absolute angel, and Cyrus had to remind himself that staring was impolite. _But he’s asleep, so how would he know?_  He took his hand out from under the covers, reaching out and brushing a lock of the other boy’s hair out of his face. It was soft, delicate, and Cyrus thought if he even breathed, he would shatter this moment. He wanted to be bold, to lean in a little and give him even a quick peck on his head, but that would be weird, right? Wanting to kiss your best friend?

He sighed, pushing off the covers with his legs and being careful not to wake TJ. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he felt a rush of blood from his head, shutting his eyes for a moment to regain his senses. Standing up, he tugged the covers to make sure that TJ was warm, grabbed his robe, and quietly padded down the stairs.

Leslie was already there, making breakfast when Cyrus arrived. “Morning,” he yawned, stretching his arms.

“Morning sweetie,” she greeted with a quick peck on his head, “how’d you sleep?”

“Good,” he mumbled through a bite of toast, “so, listen. I know this is going to sound weird, but TJ’s upstairs,” he started, “he came over last night, and, well,” he sighed, setting the food down, “he told his mom that he was gay, and he kind of left,”

Leslie seemed to reply with a sad smile. “That’s terrible. No child should ever have to go through that,” she murmured, putting a few more slices of bread into the toaster.

“And I sort of let him stay here overnight. . .and I’m not sure when he plans to go back, but, is it okay if he stays here for a while? I just, I wanna make sure he’s going to be safe before he goes back,”

Leslie smiled, buttering the toast and putting it on a plate. “Of course,” she agreed, handing the plate to Cyrus, “give him some breakfast, okay? Make sure he eats something,”

“I will, thanks,” he returned, climbing the stairs again. Entering the room, he saw that TJ was still asleep, so he set the plate on the nightstand, and took a seat on the edge of the bed.

“TJ, wake up,” he whispered, gently nudging him awake. TJ groaned, mumbling in his sleep.

_I love you too. You’re so cute._

Cyrus felt his cheeks go red hot. _He’s dreaming_ , he reminded himself, touching his hands to his cheeks in an attempt to cool them down. “TJ, c’mon, it’s time to get up,”

This time TJ reached his arms above his head, taking in a deep breath and puffing it out. His eyes fluttered open, revealing his brilliant green eyes once again. Cyrus really needed so have some self-control; soon he’d be getting lost in those eyes.

“Morning,” TJ mumbled, taking note of his surroundings, “wh-oh,” he remembered, a frown marking his face profoundly.

“I brought you breakfast,” Cyrus offered, handing him the toast.

TJ shook his head. “Not my meal. I’m not hungry,”

Cyrus persisted. “You are hungry, but you being upset is hindering that. Happens,” he explained, shoving the plate towards TJ, “just a few bites, please? I promise you’ll feel better,”

TJ scowled, tentatively holding the piece of bread that he thought would crumble before his very eyes with another touch. “Fine,” he grumbled, tearing off a piece and popping it in his mouth.

“So,” Cyrus started, flopping back onto the bed, “what should we do today? Probably can’t go to the park or anything, considering it’s been raining,”

“We can always invite people over and hang out as a group,” TJ suggested, finishing off his breakfast, “I don’t think we’ve hung out as a group in a while,”

Cyrus nodded in agreement, pulling out his phone and texting the groupchat.

**journalism junkies**

**[cyrus: hey do u guys wanna come over at like 6 to hang out?]**

“How are you feeling?” Cyrus asked, as if he was a doctor. He reached out, putting his hand on top of TJ’s, awakening a surge of butterflies trapped in his gut,

TJ shrugged, kicking the covers off. “Okay, as much as I can,” he admitted, trying to brush it off. He worried that he’d start crying all over again if he opened this wound again.

“You deserve the world, you know,” Cyrus mumbled, rubbing TJ’s hand with his thumb, “I’m really sorry about all this. My mom said that you could stay with us as long as you needed,”

TJ shook his head, rubbing his eyes with his hands; he really missed Cyrus’ touch in that moment. “I don’t want to impose on you guys,” he murmured bashfully, “I’ll go back really soon, I swear,”

Cyrus abruptly sat up, feeling the blood rush again; he had to stop doing that. “Are you insane? I’m not letting you go back until I know you’re going to be safe,” he said firmly, crossing his legs.

TJ waved him off, dismissing him as though he’d just apologized for bumping into him. “She’s not gonna hit me, Cy, I’ll be okay,” he promised him, but he didn’t mean the last part. _I’ll be okay._ Would he though? Not even he knew the answer to that.

“Okay, you’ll be fine physically, but what about emotionally? Teej, I don’t want you to have to suffer through living with her,” Cyrus worried, his teeth grazing his upper lip.

“I can’t just leave Amber alone,” he informed the other boy, shaking his head.

“Tell her she can come too,” Cyrus offered blindly, putting a hand on TJ’s shoulder,

TJ shook his head, placing his hand on top of Cyrus’. “I appreciate the offer, but I can’t have you just taking us in. It’s not fair to you,” he pointed out. Cyrus looked hurt at that, but TJ knew it was the truth; he already felt guilty that Cyrus was being so generous and letting him stay for a little while, but having him help Amber too. . .the guilt would consume him whole.

Cyrus frowned, gingerly removing his hand from TJ’s touch, and letting it fall into his lap. “I just. . .I wish there was actually something I could _do_ ,” he whined, screwing his eyes shut.

TJ placed a hand on Cyrus’ arm, using his free hand to lift the other boy’s chin. “You are doing something. Just you existing is enough, you know. I can be me around you, and that’s more than I can say about anyone. You’re the only person I can talk to like this. You’re…Cyrus you’re everything to me,” TJ admitted, feeling like his body was being pulled towards Cyrus’. Try and explain _that_ one, physics.

Cyrus started leaning in, and for a split second, TJ thought he was going to faint or wake up from a dream where things ended happily and romantically. Instead, Cyrus pulled him in for a hug, rubbing circles into his back. It still felt really nice, having someone here for him.

“You are my everything, you know that? Without you,” he pulled back, lacing his hands with TJ’s, “I don’t even know who I’d be,”

 _Hot, hot, hot, hot. Fire. Warm. Heat_. TJ comprehended what Cyrus had said, but all he could focus on was the budding heat between them. It was like they were a match and a matchbox, lighting each other aflame whenever they were together.

**[andi: i’m down and so is amber!]**

**[walker: im there]**

**[jonah: if walker is coming, i’ll def b there]**

**[marty: party time laid ease]**

**[buffy: hm fine]**

Smiling at his phone, Cyrus shut it off again, putting it aside. “They’ll be here at six,”

TJ nodded, rolling off the bed and grabbing his clothes. “I’ll change in the bathroom. Wouldn’t wanna give you a heart attack,” he joked, turning his back on a very flushed Cyrus. Shaking his head, the boy reached into the drawer of his nightstand, and pulled out his journal. He didn’t need help with this word.

_querencia: a place from which one’s strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you are your most authentic self_

He shut it quickly, slipping it back into the drawer. Lord knows what would happen if TJ saw it and flicked through a few pages; it would progressively get worse, he mused. Shaking his head clear of negative thoughts, he sifted through his closet to get ready for the day.

* * *

 

“Left foot blue!” Marty called out over the music, struggling to contain his laughter as Cyrus, Buffy, and TJ all scrambled to try and move their legs. They looked like a tangled mess, each of them in a position that nobody would ever call natural.

TJ bumped Cyrus foot as they went for the same spot, and both of them came crashing down, ending up on top of one another. A chorus of gasps and ‘oohs’ swept through their friend group, effectively making their cheeks redder than the red dots on the Twister tarp. Cyrus giggles, sending TJ into a fit of laughter as well, both of them crawling off of the mat, and leaving Buffy alone.

“I win!” she cheered, collapsing to the ground with a soft thud, “I knew I’d beat you guys,”

“The modest Buffy Driscoll, ladies and gentlemen,” TJ teased, chuckling softly.

“What should we do now?” Walker asked, folding up the Twister tarp.

“Ooh, we could play paranoia! I’ve always wanted to play, but there’s never been enough people,” Jonah suggested, motioning for people to get into a circle.

“How do you play?” Amber chimed in, crossing her legs.

“Okay, so basically, you ask the person to your left a question, so like I would ask Andi,” he explained, “and you whisper a question in their ear, but the answer has to be a person. So like, if I would ask her ‘who has the prettiest hair’, she’d answer out loud,”

“Amber,” she replied, grinning like an idiot.

“But you guys don’t know what the question was,” he continued, “but you could! We flip a coin after Andi answers; heads she spills the question, tails she doesn’t,”

“Okay, but why is it called paranoia?” Marty wondered aloud.

“Because people are paranoid when other people say their name, but don’t know the question. For all the know, it could be ‘who would you kill’,” Jonah mused, shaking his head, “that probably won’t happen. Wanna play?”

Everyone agreed that this would be a fun way to pass the time, save for Buffy who was still riding the high of winning Twister. And even _after_ Marty explained to her that there were no winners or losers of this game, she wasn’t totally convinced, even though she agreed to play.

“I’ll go first,” Andi chirped, turning towards Buffy and whispering a question in her ear.

_Who is most likely to cry at movies?_

Buffy snorted, crossing her arms. “That’s easy. Cyrus,”

Cyrus perked up, hearing his name. “Ooh, drama,” he exclaimed giddily, clapping his hands together.

Buffy rolled her eyes, pulling out a coin from her pocket and flipping it. All eyes were on the coin as it rolled on its side, and then landed on heads. A whisper of ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ filled the room, a few people eyeing Cyrus.

“I asked her who would be most like to cry at movies,” Andi piped, up, smiling sympathetically, “sorry Cyrus,”

Cyrus crossed his arms in mild annoyance, tilting his head up. “I just happen to be a little emotional,” he huffed.

TJ reached over Amber and patted him on the shoulder. “We know. It’s endearing,” he mumbled, earning what may have been the most incredulous look from Amber.

“Okay my turn,” Buffy cut in, turning towards Cyrus and asking him his question.

_Who would you go watch a scary movie with?_

“TJ,” Cyrus said with confidence. Jonah gave him a knowing look but Cyrus chose to ignore it. He flipped the coin, and it landed on heads. Suddenly he felt a lot less confident about his choice.

“I asked him who he would watch a scary movie with,” Buffy cooed, poking Cyrus’ side, while he attempted to swat her away.

TJ felt pairs of eyes staring him down. His face was an unnatural shade of pink, and he prayed that this awkwardness would die out soon.

“Because he’d warn me when all the bad part come,” Cyrus cut in, as if he could read TJ’s thoughts, “and he’d buy me popcorn,” he added, dissolving all tension in the room as people cracked up.

Cyrus leaned over and asked Amber her question.

_Who would you trust with anything?_

“. . .TJ, I guess,” she mumbled, taking the coin and flipping it. This time, however, it landed on tails, and everyone groaned. Everyone, that is, except for Amber, who couldn’t help but smirk.

“Alright, TJ,” Amber rubbed her hands together, her nose wrinkling up when she smiled, “your turn,”

_Who is someone you have something important to tell?_

TJ looked like he was going to leap at her throat, he he managed to maintain his cool. Trying to act nonchalant, he leaned back on his hands, saying “Cyrus,” in the most casual tone.

Amber looked at him as if she’d just won the lottery. Handing the coin to TJ, she watched as he flipped the coin. . .and it landed on tails. “For fuck’s sake,” she muttered, giving him a gentle shove, as he was giggling now.

“Boo hoo, Bambi didn’t get her way,” he toyed, leaning over to Walker.

_Who is the most trustworthy person?_

“Jonah, obviously,” he replied, blowing him a kiss, which Jonah happily ‘caught’.

Walker flipped the coin, which landed on heads. “I think you’re the most trustworthy person,”

“Aw,” Jonah cooed, smiling so hard his dimples looked like crevices in the earth.

“It’s true,” Cyrus chimed in, giving him a knowing look before turning his attention back to the game. It didn’t go unnoticed by TJ, who lingered on this for a moment. Why was _Jonah_ the most trustworthy to _Cyrus_? Was he not trustworthy enough? Was he embarrassed to admit it if it were him? Ah, the lovely process of overthinking.

“My turn,” Walker piped up, turning to Marty.

_Who do you wanna travel the world with?_

Walker pulled back, crossing his arms proudly and waiting for a name to fill the room.

“TJ,”

Well, not that name. Walker gawked at him, his gaze flitting over to Buffy for a split second before he shook his head. “Oh. Okay,”

The rest of the group looked confused and bubbling with excitement, all at once. Buffy appeared unfazed, TJ was on edge, and the girls looked like they were barely paying attention. Walker handed Marty the coin, who flipped it with the utmost care. It rattled on the ground, rolling on its edge until it landed on heads.

Oh no.

Walker swallowed, picking up the coin and playing with it in his hands. “I-uh, well, I asked him who he’d. . .want to travel the world with,” he said quietly, his cheeks going hot.

Marty didn’t flinch, instead lifting his head to meet Buffy’s eyes. “Yup,” he stated, popping the ‘p’ at the end.

Everyone tensed up. TJ felt like he was going to be the subject of an interrogation. He bowed his head, not willing to make eye contact with people. Cyrus did the same, but for different reasons. He felt like part of his heart was being torn out, and he didn’t even know _why_.

“What about Buffy?” Jonah piped in, and TJ wanted to just pull him out of the room. Sweet Jonah, ever the oblivious one.

Marty didn’t bat an eye, narrowing his gaze. “I don’t think she’d want to travel the world with someone that she doesn’t like,” he spat, watching her face contort into one of confusion.

“I never said that!” she shot back, crossing her arms, “I said I-”

“-doesn’t matter,” he cut her off, waving his hand to dismiss her, and clearing his throat.

Andi looked between them, before clapping her hands together. “Next question?” she suggested, and Walker passed the coin along. Marty turned towards Jonah, scowling.

_Who is most likely to fall in love with their best friend?_

“Oh, Cyrus,” Jonah answered smoothly, turning his gaze towards his friend. Cyrus didn’t even seem phased; his feelings felt so overwhelming that it was almost as if he was numb and on high alert at the same time.

Jonah took the coin from Walker, and flipped it. He groaned when it landed on tails, but he shrugged it off, passing the coin down. Cyrus was beginning to understand why the game was called paranoia.

Jonah turned towards Andi, asking her her question.

Who would you wanna switch lives with for a week?

Andi thought about it for a moment, looking around at her group of friends before finally saying “Amber,”

The blonde perked up at that, her eyes lighting up like a fire. She waited for Andi to flip the coin, which, fortunately, landed on heads.

“I asked her who she wanted to switch lives with for a week,” Jonah supplied.

Amber’s smile quickly faltered. “What?” she asked, “why would you wanna switch lives with me of all people? My mom sucks,”

Andi shrugged, knitting her hands together. “I know, I just wanna see what it’s like in your shoes,” she admitted, earning a few coos from the crowd, “plus, I’d probably get to listen to TJ talk about Cyrus,” she blurted out, clapping her hand over her mouth after she’d said it.

The room fell silent; even the music they were playing had stopped. Cyrus looked like he was going to cry, and TJ was worried that if his face went any redder, he’d burst. The rest of the crew looked around, trying to survive through this awkward bout.

“I mean, like, in a normal friend way,” Andi added quickly, but there really was no use in her saying anything else. What was said was said, and there was no way she could take it back.

Cyrus dug fingers into his palms, trying, in vain, to distract himself from what was going on. Everything seemed to be falling apart right before his eyes; not just things with TJ, but everything with Buffy and Marty. . .it all felt like too much. He could feel his eyes burning, his lower lip start to wobble, and his breathing becoming shallow. Before he could break down right there and then, he quickly stood up, bolting towards the bathroom, and shutting the door. He locked it, sliding down the door and holding his head in his hands.

“Cyrus?” there was a knock on the door, and then a voice. Andi’s voice.

“Go away,” he snapped, but there was very little edge to his voice.

“Cyrus, please let me in,” she pleaded, her hand on the doorknob. Cyrus rolled his eyes, even though she couldn’t see her, but he moved away from the door, unlocking it. She pushed through, and shut the door behind her.

“What do you want?” he retorted, crossing his arms.

“I’m sorry,” she started, her voice small and meek, “I didn’t mean to bring up you and TJ and-”

“-and my silly, stupid-ass crush on him, I get it. I fucking get it that it’s pointless because he probably likes Marty or some shit like that,” he spat, the curse words tasting a little strange. He never really used them, and heck, he usually reprimanded people for using them.

Andi looked taken aback, her eyes softening. “That’s. . .not what I mean at all. Marty?”

Cyrus glowered at her. “Travel the world, don’t you remember?”

“Oh,” Andi mumbled, “I don’t think he really meant that,” she tried to soothe him, reaching out her hand, but Cyrus pushed it away.

“Oh, really? How the hell do you know that, hm?” he grumbled, “you don’t,”

“Cyrus, please,” she tried, but he cut her off.

“No Andi,” he interrupted, looking like he was on the verge of tears, “I’m done with this. I’m done letting you guys convince me that there’s something else between me and TJ. I’m breaking my own heart loving him. For the longest fucking time, I was torn between holding on to what you were promising and accepting the reality that it wouldn’t happen,” he choked out.

“Cyrus, Marty and TJ aren’t-”

Cyrus put a hand up. “You don’t have to say it, Andi,” he said softly, “I care about him so much. and you know what people say about love; you do whatever is best for someone else even if it doesn’t include you” he whispered, his voice weak, and his eyes threatening to spill over with tears. Andi tried to say something, but Cyrus got up off of the floor, and left the bathroom.

He looked around for Amber, but he didn’t see her. Walker and Buffy were over by one of the couches talking, presumably about what had happened. Andi had walked over to Jonah, and her mouth was moving so fast that Cyrus couldn’t keep up with what she was saying. And, near the back of the room, were TJ and Marty. They were talking, yes, but when TJ pulled Marty in for a hug, Cyrus felt so small. He wanted the ground to come alive and swallow him whole. He wanted to block that out from his mind, but he knew that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. Cyrus shook his head, running up the stairs and into his bedroom, shutting the door. He really didn’t to cry, but it felt like he didn’t have a choice.

Grabbing his journal, he started to write.

_6/29_

_Today I invited all my friends over to hang out. We were playing paranoia, and then Buffy and Marty started to argue about their relationship. That wasn’t even the worst; Andi brought up me and TJ, and I just felt so exposed. I really didn’t want people to know about my feelings for him, but now I feel like they will. Things with Marty and TJ escalated, and I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something more there. Andi tried to tell me that there isn’t anything there, but I don’t believe that. This is why I always want to lock all my emotions away. Because the moment I let them loose, I fall hard. I fall with no one there to catch me, so I hit the pavement and shatter._

Some of his writing had smudged, as a result of his tears. TJ and Marty’s names blurred into one blob. _How fitting_ , he thought. His phone buzzed a few times, and he opened them, out of habit.

**[amber: went home. hope things are okay <3]**

**[jb: walker n i left, lmk if u need anything]**

**[slayer: see u tmrw, cy, ily. sorry about the fighting]**

**[marty party: went home dude, hope everything’s fine]**

**[andi another thing: cyrus im so sorry about what i said. im going home, but i really want things to be okay with us. i love u]**

Putting it back on his nightstand, he lied down on his bed, putting the palms of his hands on his eyes. There was a soft knock at the door, and then it opened. _Why knock if you’re going to come in anyways?_ Cyrus wondered, sitting up.

“Hey,” TJ said softly, shutting the door, “you okay? You kind of disappeared,”

Cyrus really didn’t want to talk about it; he especially didn’t want to talk about it with TJ because he’d probably explode with feelings. And that was exactly what he wanted _not_ to happen.

“I’m fine,” he snipped, clearly lying. TJ frowned, taking a seat on the bed with Cyrus.

“Okay,” he replied worriedly, “. . .do you wanna do something else?”

“Why don’t you go ask _Marty_ ,” Cyrus drawled, “I’m sure he’d love to do something with you,”

“What are you _talking_ about?” TJ asked, “what do you mean?”

“Why don’t you lovebirds go travel the world together,” Cyrus suggested, bowing his head down.

“Oh,” TJ mumbled, remembering, “that’s nothing, really.”

Cyrus didn’t respond, instead remaining fixated on one spot on the floor.

“It’s. . .stuff with Marty and Buffy,” TJ explained, earning a nod from Cyrus.

“Ah, yes. Love and not love,” Cyrus mused, lying down on the bed. TJ leaned back as well, both of them now staring at the ceiling.

“Marty’s just pissed because he feels like his relationship with Buffy is in shambles,” TJ sighed, running a hand through his hair, “don’t tell him I told you that,”

Cyrus nodded, miming zipping his lips. “I think I’m going to turn in early,”

TJ bopped his head, getting up off of the bed and sifting through his bag.

“Hey TJ?”

“Hm?”

“What did Amber ask you earlier? When you said my name?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

TJ felt his face heat up again, as he pulled out his pajamas. “Oh, uh, she asked me. . .who I had something important to say to,” he winced, hoping Cyrus wouldn’t press on.

“Oh, really? What is it?” Cyrus asked, suddenly feeling more alert.

TJ pretended to yawn, stretching his arms up above his head. “Can we talk about it tomorrow? I’m kinda tired,” he said, shifting his focus to his pajamas again. He hated lying to Cyrus, but he really didn’t want to get into this tonight.

“Oh, yeah,” Cyrus mumbled, disappointed, “totally,” he added, scooting over to the opposite side of the bed, and patting the spot next to him.

TJ crawled into the bed, frowning at the added space between him and Cyrus. He knew they weren’t fighting, exactly, but he could still sense something. He turned to face Cyrus, and sure enough, Cyrus turned to meet his eyes as well. God, he looked beautiful.

“What?” Cyrus asked softly, bringing his hand under his head.

“. . .nothing,” TJ whispered, smiling weakly, “night, Cy,”

“Night, TJ,” Cyrus mumbled, tugging the covers up and shutting his eyes.

TJ reached down off the bed and grabbed his phone from out of his bag. Sure enough, he had a text from Amber.

**[andi’s girlfriend: jesus are things between you and cyrus okay?]**

**[Me: yeah, things are good.  how are things at home w/ mom?]**

**[andi’s girlfriend: weird. it’s weird not having u here]**

**[Me: whats she saying about me?]**

**[andi’s girlfriend: nothing really. she’s acting like nothing happened]**

**[Me: figures. i’ll see u tmrw?]**

**[andi’s girlfriend: night tj. i love u (and so does cyrus skdjfhdsj)]**

**[Me: love you too (platonically)]**

TJ dropped his phone back into his bag and turned so that he was facing Cyrus. He was already asleep, his knees up in his chest, his breathing soft and slow.

“I love you, Cy,” TJ whispered into the night, pressing a kiss to his own fingers, and lightly touching Cyrus’ temple. Smiling, he tugged on the covers, and shut his own eyes, letting fatigue overcome him.


	15. Redemancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> redemancy (n.): the act of loving one who loves you; a love returned in full

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a feeling people are going to like this chapter :))

_Bzz. Bzz. Bzz._

Cyrus groaned, blinking his eyes a few times. Once he adjusted to the light, he relaxed when he saw TJ by him. He tried to ignore everything that happened last night, but it was still pretty fresh in his mind. TJ and Marty talking, hugging. . .he shook his head. Rolling over, he grabbed his phone, scrolling through the messages he’d gotten.

**[slayer: can u come over?]**

**[slayer: i need someone to talk to]**

**[slayer: please]**

**[Me: i’ll b there rlly soon!!]**

Cyrus rolled off of the bed, stretching his arms up above his head. TJ squirmed in bed, waking up slowly. “What time is it?”

“Too early,” Cyrus mumbled, trading his pajama shirt for a normal t-shirt.

“Why are you awake?” TJ grumbled, tugging on the covers and wrapping himself in them until he looked like a cocoon.

“Buffy texted,” he replied, swapping his sweatpants for a pair of jeans, “said she wanted to talk, presumably about last night,”

TJ frowned, rubbing his face with his hands. “I should probably go talk to Marty, huh,” he murmured, “he seemed a little upset after last night,”

Cyrus nodded slowly, averting his gaze from TJ. He was not about to start crying again because of what happened. “Yeah. I don’t think we’ll be seeing each other much today,”

TJ’s lips curled into a frown. “That’s okay. I mean, we have enough entries in the journal as is,” he replied, “I’ll see you later tonight? I’m gonna have to catch up on a little summer work today,”

Cyrus agreed, grabbing his phone and heading towards the door. “I’ll see you later, Teej,” he said, before leaving the room.

TJ stared up at the ceiling. He couldn’t do this anymore; he couldn’t keep this secret from Cyrus forever. It was eating him alive. Eventually he was going to find out. _It might as well be today_ , he thought to himself.

Yeah, today was gonna be the day.

* * *

 

“And I don’t know what to do, because I don’t really wanna approach him and say something, because I think I’d just lose my train of thought, but like, ugh, I don’t want things to be over because I love him and I just-” she rambled, clapping a hand over her mouth.

“Ooh, Buffy Driscoll is in _love_ ,” Cyrus cooed, batting his lashes, “this is great, isn’t it?”

“Shit, did I really say that?” she wondered aloud, pacing the floor so hard, Cyrus thought she was going to burn a path in her room.

“You should tell him!” he exclaimed, “he loves you, you love him, things are good!”

Buffy shook her head, taking a seat on her bed. “What if he doesn’t feel the same anymore? What if that feeling is. . .gone?” she whispered, her voice growing softer with each word.

Cyrus took a seat by her, putting an arm around her. “I’m sure one argument doesn’t change the fact that he loves you,” he assured her.

“I don’t wanna talk to him right now. I’m sure he doesn’t want to talk to me either,” she stated, her voice trembling ever so slightly, but she tried her best to conceal that.

“You don’t know that. People make mistakes, say things they don’t mean, and hurt the ones that are close to them. But in the end, you still love them because you know that you’d rather have them in your life than not,” he explained, feeling like he was rambling.

“. . .you mean like how you feel about TJ?” Buffy added softly, leaning her head on Cyrus’ shoulder.

He groaned, putting a hand over his face. “Don’t remind me. I already yelled at Andi last night for implying something was there between us when nothing was,” he mumbled. Buffy perked up at that, putting a hand on his shoulder and smiling sympathetically.

“Cyrus,” she started softly, “I love you, and I mean this in the nicest possible way, but I am so sure that you guys are not just friends. You have to realize that. Do you not see how he treats you compared to everyone else? He loves you, Cy,” she gave his shoulder a squeeze.

Cyrus put his hands over his face. “He’s going to hate me,” he groaned, his words muffled.

“How is that even possible?” Buffy mused, rubbing circles into his back.

“If I tell him that I like him, he’s going to freak out and he’s not going to wanna be friends with me and-”

“-Cyrus, relax,” Buffy cut him off, “breathe. It’s just like you said. People that love you will want you in their lives no matter what,”

Cyrus scoffed, crossing his arms like a child. “I don’t like having my words used against me,” he whined.

“You’re welcome,” she smirked, putting her hair up into a bun.

“I’m serious, though. Talk to Marty,” Cyrus pleaded, taking both of her hands in his.

Buffy chuckled. “I’ll talk to Marty once you tell TJ you like him,” she joked, a silly grin on her face.

Cyrus paused, not saying anything for a beat. “Okay,”

Buffy couldn’t help but choke when he said that, a look of bewilderment on her face. “What?”

“I said okay,” he stated simply, shrugging, “If that’s what it takes for you to talk to him, then I’ll do it.” _What did I just say? Why am I actually a disaster?_

“Woah, I was just kidding,” Buffy assured him, “you don’t have to do anything if you’re not ready,”

“I’m never going to be ready,” he said, shaking his head, “I’m always going to run to the edge of the cliff, getting closer each time, but I’m always so scared to just jump. To just push past that last barrier that’s holding me back and just fucking do it already,” he groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Language,” she mocked playfully, “you should be a writer, you know that. You’re really good at coming up with these analogies,”

He tapped her chest, pushing her back a little. “Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled, hesitating a little before he continued, “please talk to Marty. You guys mean a lot to each other,”

Buffy smiled softly, crossing her legs underneath her. “Talk to TJ. You guys mean a lot to each other,” she repeated.

Cyrus hopped off the bed and started for the the door. “Not again, Driscoll,” he announced, leaving.

Buffy chuckled, grabbing pair of sneakers and changing into athletic wear.

* * *

 

“I’m telling you it’s over,” Marty grumbled, wiping a line of sweat off of his hairline and taking a seat on the bench.

“It’s not over,” TJ replied, leaning back against the bench.

“How do _you_ know that?” Marty snapped, puffing out a frustrated breath.

“Buffy cares way too much about you to just cut you off because of a silly argument,” he explained, “she can be petty, but not like _that_ ,”

“Silly? I told her I fucking loved her and what do I get in return? Nothing,” he retorted, crossing his arms.

“You don’t know that,” TJ said softly, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Pretty sure I do,” Marty sighed, intending for it to come out with venom lacing his voice, but he just sounded hurt.

“Things aren’t always what they seem, you know. Sometimes your brain plays tricks on you, telling yourself lies and you believe them,” TJ pointed out, intertwining his hands together.

“Where is this coming from, Kippen?” Marty asked, scratching his head.

TJ sighed, bracing himself. “Yesterday when we were talking in the basement, well, Cyrus. . .he thought that, you know. . .” he trailed, wincing at Marty’s groan.

“Please, no. Don’t tell me he thinks we’re-”

“-yup,” TJ cut in, shaking his head.

“But you told him there’s nothing between us, right?” he added, turning to TJ, “right?”

“Well. . .” he mumbled, smiling sadly.

Marty pushed his chest before he could say anything else. “You idiot!” he exclaimed, scoffing, “You do realize that he thinks you like me, right? He’s probably fucking heartbroken,” he scolded.

“The hell? Why would he be?” TJ questioned, kicking at the ground below him.

“You’re kidding me right?” Marty gawked, “ _dude_ , he likes you,”

“ _Dude_ he doesn’t,” TJ mimicked, rolling his eyes.

“Bet,” Marty said confidently.

“What?”

“I bet he likes you,” Marty repeated.

“And I bet that he doesn’t,” TJ countered.

“Fine then,” Marty frowned, “but you _have_ to tell him that we’re nothing but friends,”

“And _you_ have to talk to Buffy,”

Marty hesitated, his snarky attitude faltering. “. . .I don’t think she wants anything to do with me right now,”

“Lies,” he muttered, “look, if you talk to Buffy, I’ll talk to Cyrus,” he pleaded, extending a hand.

“Really?” Marty perked up.

“Really,” TJ promised. They shook on it, and all of sudden, TJ felt like this was going to be a lot harder than previously thought.

* * *

 

TJ pushed through his front door, the house seeming like it was a stranger’s now. His mom was in the kitchen, and Amber was sitting at the table having a snack. She nearly choked on her granola, seeing her brother in the door.

“What the _hell_?” Amber barely whispered, looking at him with wide eyes.

“I needed some things. Toothpaste, deodorant, the rest of my summer work,” he listed, starting up the stairs. Amber quickly followed behind him, the two of them going into his room.

“Nothing’s changed, huh,” he joked, heading into his bathroom and gathering his things.

“I could have brought you these things, dumbass,” Amber hissed, “you shouldn’t have come back here,”

“She was going to have to see me eventually, Amber,” he retorted, taking a seat on his bed for a moment. In a way, he missed it; he missed having Amber right next door. Having her there whenever things went wrong. On his way out, he saw a picture frame, with him and Cyrus from the Christmas store in it.

“You did this?” TJ asked Amber, holding up the frame.

Amber nodded sheepishly. “I thought it might make you smile,” she admitted, coming up beside her brother.

“Thanks,” he murmured, “I love it. . .but I should probably get going,” he sighed, walking towards the door. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he didn’t see his mom, and let out a breath me didn’t know he was holding.

“How are things with you and Cyrus?” Amber asked, following him down.

“He thinks I have a crush on Marty,” he deadpanned, slipping his shoes back on.

“What on earth gave him _that_ impression?” she gawked, leaning against the wall. So TJ launched into the story about last night, all about paranoia, Cyrus’ argument with Andi, and where they stood right now.

“Talk to him dammit,” Amber mumbled, grabbing a soda out of the fridge.

“Thanks captain obvious,” he groaned, before shifting the subject, “how are things with Andi?”

“We’re alright. A little shaken up by you leaving, but she’s been great,” Amber reminisced, “do you know when you’re going to come back?” she asked meekly, her voice small.

TJ shrugged, hand on the doorknob. “Not sure. Soon, I hope. I miss you,”

Amber reached forward, pulling him into a hug. “I miss you too. Tell Cyrus I said hi,”

“I will,” TJ promised, before he left, shutting the door softly behind him.

Her mom came in from the other room, setting her cup down with a definite clink. “Things with you and Andi?”

* * *

 

Buffy quickly walked down the sidewalk, heading towards the courts. She kept her gaze on the ground, counting all the cracks in the sidewalk. She needed to clear her head; do anything to distract herself. But when she looked up, she felt all the air knocked out of her lungs. Marty was standing a few yards in front of her, making direct eye contact. Both of them, slowed their pace, coming closer and closer, until they were just a few feet apart. Both of them opened their mouth to say something, both speaking at once.

“I’m sorry,”

“I love you,”

“What?”

“You first,” Buffy insisted, rocking back on her heels.

“I’m. . sorry. For blowing up last night. I just. . .I don’t know. I felt really. . .unimportant to you,” he admitted, holding his breath to refrain from crying.

Buffy frowned, reaching out and grabbing his hand. “That is so far from the truth, Marty,”

“Evidently, yes,” he chuckled, giving her hand a squeeze.

“I do, though, love you, that is,” she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck with her free hand, “I was talking to Cyrus and it just flowed out naturally,”

Marty smiled, taking a step forward. “Sorry for making you feel like you had to say it back,” he said sheepishly.

“You didn’t,” she said, shaking her head,  “Don’t worry. I’m just…glad things are okay,”

“You didn’t think they were?” Marty asked, rubbing her hand with his thumb.

“I thought that,” she hesitated, blinking harshly, “. . .that there wasn’t going to be an ‘us’ anymore,” she admitted.

“Are you insane? You’re so important to me, Buffy,” he croaked, pulling her in for a tight hug. Man, how he had missed this.

“I love you,” she whispered against his neck, shutting her eyes. And she meant it from the depth of her soul; she really did love him.

“I love you too,”

* * *

 

Later in the night, TJ ran up the stairs of Cyrus’ house, nearly bumping into Leslie in the process. He burst into Cyrus’ room, where he was peacefully sitting on his bed and reading.

“I don’t have a crush on Marty,” he blurted out, trying to catch his breath. He shut the door, inhaling deeply.

“. . .okay?” Cyrus chimed in, putting a slip of paper in the book and setting it aside. He patted the bed for TJ to come sit, which he did.

“I know. . .you probably think I do because of last night, but I don't. We’re just friends,” he promised him, feeling his heart pounding against his ribs.

“Oh. Okay,” Cyrus replied after a beat, his hands reaching for his book, before TJ spoke again.

“I went back home today,” he blurted out, clapping a hand over his mouth as soon as he spoke. So much for maintaining his cool.

Cyrus nearly dropped his book on his foot, turning to TJ with a look of concern and bewilderment. “You _did_? Why, what happened?”

TJ shrugged, pulling his knees into his chest. “I needed to grab summer homework, and also toothpaste and deodorant and things like that,” he explained, as if it were the most simple thing in the world.

“I have those here, I could have given them to you, Teej,” Cyrus sighed, rubbing his temples. The thought of TJ going back home, and possibly interacting with his mom. . .it made him sick.

TJ shook his head, waving Cyrus off. “I already feel like I’m intruding. I didn’t want you to worry,”

Cyrus took his hand, interlacing it with his. “You’re not intruding. I really like having you here,” he admitted, tracing circles into TJ’s hand.

TJ hesitated, thinking back to his thoughts this morning. _What the hell_ , he thought. “We’re. . .we’re gonna be friends no matter what, right?”

“Of-of course,” Cyrus assured him, his eyebrows knitting up in confusion, “is everything okay?”

TJ breathed out shakily. “Friends don’t. . .they don’t do things like this,” he said softly.

Cyrus looked down at their hands; he could hear the blood roaring in his ears, his heart humming, no longer beating, as far as he could tell. “I mean. . .” he trailed, too afraid to say anything more; he was already treading into dangerous territory.

“They don’t,” TJ said firmly, giving Cyrus’ hand an uncertain squeeze. His heart was in his throat, and he felt like he could barely breathe.

Cyrus opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out; all the words died on the tip of his tongue. He felt like he was on the edge of a cliff, and the final pebble was about to give way. He could almost feel the ocean’s breeze, nearly taste the salty water. He was so close, yet so far at the same time.

TJ didn’t say anything either. He was scared; so scared. More afraid than when he told his mom he was gay. More afraid than when he’d almost gotten in a car crash when he’d started to learn how to drive. In this moment, he realized how fragile his relationship with Cyrus was. In a few words, he worried he could lose him, and that was the worst fear of them all. His hands started to tremble involuntarily, and he wouldn’t have noticed this unless Cyrus had put his hands on top of his own.

“Hey, hey, Teej,” he whispered, rubbing his hands gently, “I’m right here. Whatever it is, it’s okay,”

TJ shook his head, nearly choking on the lump in his throat. “You’re going to hate me,” he choked out, squeezing his eyes so tight he saw colors.

Cyrus felt like someone had just taken his heart and thrown it on the ground, shattering it into a million pieces. “How could I hate someone that I love?”

TJ didn’t even bat an eye at that; Cyrus might as well have added ‘platonically’ at the end of that sentence, and it would be all the same. He looked down at their hands; he was going to miss doing this. Having moments like these. It hurt, but it hurt more hiding everything.

“I like you,” he squeaked out, a shaky sob escaping his lips, “I’ve known for so long. I can’t remember back to a time when I didn’t,”

“Okay,” Cyrus started, but TJ kept talking.

“That’s not even all,” he stammered, “I-I knew I liked you when I felt nervous around you, and my heart would beat faster when I saw you. . . but I knew I loved you when I felt calmer being with you,” he admitted. He wanted to stop talking so badly, but it was like he had no control over what he said. It was all in the open now; he didn’t even have the guts to look at Cyrus. He wanted Cyrus to say something, _anything_. And the next thing he knew, Cyrus had flung his arms around him.

“I love you too,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, fearing that if it’s too loud, he’s going to wake up from this dream. Tears were trickling down his face, and he couldn’t put into words how _good_ it felt to finally get those words off his chest.

Reluctantly, he pulled back from the hug, but intertwined his hands with TJ’s. “Teej, I-I’m so in love with you, I don’t even know where to start,” he stammered, all choked up that he could barely form words, “You’re the first morning breath, the last evening sigh, and every damn thing in between. and fuck, I got so pissed at Andi yesterday for telling me that there could be some ‘us’. because I just. . .I couldn’t imagine that you could like someone like me. You deserve the world,” he whispered, tears flowing much more freely now.

TJ didn’t say anything for a while; he tried to compose himself, but every time he replayed Cyrus’ words in his head, he started back at square one.

“You _are_ my world, Cyrus. It’s so hard to put into words that I love you because I’ve never loved anyone before. Amber, sure, but, never like this,” he wept, pulling him in for another hug. He couldn’t describe what he was feeling; everything was so overwhelming, that it almost felt numbing.

“This is really sappy,” Cyrus sputtered, breaking into a fit of giggles, which sent TJ laughing too. Both of them were dizzy with excitement and happiness, their stomachs aching from all their laughing. How Cyrus had missed that sound. When they’d calmed down they rested on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

“I still can’t forget about that time I made you pretty much hate me,” TJ spoke, wincing. Leave it to him to ruin a perfectly sweet moment.

“It’s okay,” Cyrus murmured, taking TJ’s hand, “we’re past that,”

TJ shook his head, turning to face Cyrus. “Don’t you worry? Aren’t you scared I’m going to say something horrible when I’m angry? I’m a monster,” he whimpered. It was true, to him. He really hated when he got upset easily.

Cyrus scooted over, coming over so closely that their noses were touching. “Believe me, I’ve had demons in my mind and you’re the angel that saved me from myself. Besides, not all monsters are bad,”

TJ smiled, pulling back a little. “So you _are_ saying that I’m a monster?”

Cyrus tapped his chest lightly, pouting. “Shut up,” he giggled, wiping the tear tracks from his face.

TJ peered over at the clock; it was almost 10:30. “Most people kiss at this point,” he whispered, smiling mischievously.

“But we’re not most people,” Cyrus added, pulling TJ off of the bed so he could shift the covers.

“No, we’re not. But I really like us,” TJ cooed, scooting into bed and making room for Cyrus.

“Me too,” Cyrus mumbled, grabbing his journal and flipping to the back. He didn’t need a thesaurus to help him with this word.

_redemancy: the act of loving one who loves you; a love returned in full_

TJ peered over at his journal, barely making out a list of words, since he didn’t have his glasses on. “What’s that?”

Cyrus smiled, shutting the journal and setting it aside. “I’ll tell you tomorrow,” he promised, taking TJ’s hand and intertwining it in his own.

“Night, Teej,” he whispered, curling up by his shoulder.

“Night, Cy,” he murmured, relaxing against his touch.


	16. Basorexia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> basorexia (n.): the overwhelming desire to kiss someone

Cyrus woke up to his head pounding. He groaned, placing a hand to his head, but all thoughts of pain seemed to melt away upon seeing TJ. He smiled to hard that it felt like his face was going to split. Carefully, as though not to wake him, he placed his hand under his jaw, sending a zip of electricity down his arm. And _boy_ , did he really want to kiss him. He’d never felt such a strong urge before, but he was pretty sure TJ would forever spite him for having their first kiss while he was still asleep. Rolling over, he plucked his journal from the drawer, flipping to the back of the pages.

_basorexia: the overwhelming desire to kiss someone_

He flipped back onto his stomach, gingerly pushing TJ’s arm. “Psst, TJ,” he whispered, “it’s time to get up,”

TJ groaned in response, putting a hand over his face. “It’s too early,” he mumbled out, his words almost unintelligible.

“It’s never too early,” he whispered, resting his head on the athlete’s shoulder.

TJ smiled, eyes still shut, and reached down to try and find Cyrus’ hand, intertwining it with Cyrus’. “You remember what I do?”

Cyrus tapped his chin, pretending to think it over. “Remember what?”

TJ fluttered his eyes open, tapping Cyrus’ chest lightly. “You little shit,” he chuckled, attacking him with tickles. Cyrus’ laughter was the more beautiful sound he’d ever heard; he could listen to it forever

“And you love me for it,” Cyrus choked out, a few laughs getting caught in his throat.

“Yeah. . .I do,” TJ whispered, smiling that soft smile that was only reserved for Cyrus.

Cyrus started leaning in, his eyes fluttering shut briefly. Here it was; he was finally going to do what he’d been wanting to for such a long time. TJ was so close he could already feel his heart racing.

“What are you doing?”

TJ’s words snapped him out of his thoughts, causing his eyes to open wide, and his face to turn an embarrassing shade of red. “O-oh, uh, kissing? You? Is that not okay?”

TJ smiled, squeezing the other boy’s hand. “I wanna take you on a real date first,”

Cyrus perked up at that; it was the one thing he’d wanted more than anything. “Today?”

TJ nodded. “Today,”

Cyrus put a hand over his chest. “Maybe today can be our always,”

TJ rolled his eyes, ruffling the other boy’s hair. “I cannot believe I love this fool,” he murmured, pushing the covers off. He reached into his bag for his phone, checking it for new messages.

**[andi’s girlfriend: help. mom suspects im gay. need help]**

TJ felt his heart sink into his stomach, clutching his phone tightly. “Actually, can we postpone? I need to help Amber,” he admitted, turning to Cyrus with a look of upsetness.

“You’re going to go back there? What about your mom?” he asked, putting his hands on the boy’s shoulders.

“She needs me. Stay here, Cy,” he said, starting out the door.

“Wait, Teej!”

He turned back around, and Cyrus came full force at him, wrapping his arms around him. “You’re killing it as a brother,”

* * *

 

By the time TJ had reached the door, he was nearly out of breath, wheezing with each step. He really needed basketball season to pick up again. He could already hear the arguing before he entered the door.

“-you can’t cherry pick the Bible-”

“-do _not_ use that tone with me, I will-”

“-you just don’t listen! Why won’t you let me explain that-”

“-there’s nothing for you to say-”

“What’s going on here?” TJ’s voice boomed above the others, garnering their attention. It was the first time he’d spoken to his mom in a while.

“This doesn’t concern you,” she snapped, crossing her arms and pacing around the kitchen.

“Actually it does,” he cut in cooly, “Amber’s my sister, and _your_ daughter. You should love her, and me, no matter what,”

“But-”

“But nothing,” he hissed, coming up behind Amber and putting his hands on her shoulders, “there are no ‘buts’ when it comes to love,”

And with that, TJ grabbed Amber’s hand and the two of them headed out the door, shutting it with a slam. TJ didn’t have a destination in mind, he was just walking. Arm around Amber, he told her that things were going to be, that they had to be. That their mom was going to come around to it eventually. None of these things did he know were true, but he knew he needed to console Amber.

After walking absentmindedly for a little while, they found themselves at the cemetery. Both of them could pick out their dad’s gravestone without any hesitation, even if it did look just like the other ones. Mumbling something under his breath that sounded like a vague prayer, TJ let Amber through the gates, walking slowly to their dad’s gravestone.

“Hi dad,” TJ started, his voice feeling thick and strained all of a sudden, “I miss you. Things are tough at home,”

“Mom knows we’re gay,” Amber cut in, shutting her eyes, “things aren’t good. And I know you would accept us no matter what. Even when we were little and didn’t know we were gay, you were always so nice to everyone,” she remembered, a soft smile on her face.

“We need help,” TJ murmured, “please, give us a sign. Something that things are going to be okay,” he murmured, his fingers tracing all the crevices of the stone.

“I love you, dad. Miss you,” Amber choked out, pressing a kiss to her fingers, and then pressing them to the stone. Both of them lingered a moment longer, before leaving and starting to walk again. A small ladybug landed on Amber’s shoulder, but neither of them noticed it.

“Wanna go to Cyrus’ house?” he asked, to which Amber agreed. He pulled out his phone, sending Cyrus a quick text.

**[Underdog <3: amber is gonna come over with me <3 <3 <3 <3]**

Amber peered over his shoulder, noting the heart emojis. “Suddenly you’re all into emojis, huh,”

TJ snickered, slinging an arm around her. “Something like that,”

* * *

 

“But you _can_ all stay here!” Cyrus insisted, taking Amber’s hand in his.

TJ shook his head. “I can’t ask you to do that, Cy. I’ve already overstayed my visit. I don’t think I could say thank you enough,”

Amber gave his hand a squeeze, offering a sympathetic smile. “Thank you,” she whispered.

TJ nudged Cyrus. “So much for postponing our date, huh,”

Amber snapped up, nearly hitting Cyrus as she tore away from the hug. “ _What_?”

Cyrus chuckled, lacing TJ’s hand with his. “Oh did we not tell you? We like each other,”

“Called it! I called it, like, months ago,” she bragged, crossing her arms. Her phone buzzed, and she opened it up.

**[jonah: hey do u wanna hang out?]**

**[Me: sure! your house?]**

**[jonah: yup]**

“I gotta go, but you two lovebirds have fun on your date,” she smiled, giving TJ a knowing look, “tell me _everything_ ,” she insisted, walking out with a small wave.

“So about that date?” TJ asked, his eyes hopeful.

“I was thinking a picnic? It’s a really nice day,” Cyrus suggested, nodding towards the window.

“Absolutely,”

* * *

 

“. . .and so them we went over to Cyrus’ house, and then you texted,” she explained, leaning back against the couch. It was a little weird that she was talking to her ex-boyfriend about her girlfriend problems, but it was funny the way things worked out. She felt oddly comfortable around Jonah.

“That sucks, Amber. I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do,” he offered, crossing his legs.

Amber waved him off. “It’s not your fault. How are things with you and Walker?”

Jonah smiled sadly, pulling his knees up. “He’s on vacation right now. I miss him. We’ve been hanging out all summer, like, every single day, and now it just feels. . .empty,”

Amber gave his shoulder a light shove. “You can’t wallow in your sadness. C’mon let’s do something,”

“Like what?”

“Whatever you want. It’s your house, after all,” she pointed out.

Jonah’s lips curled into a tentative smile. “Karaoke?”

Amber’s face lit up, and she repeatedly clapped her hands. “Oh my _gosh_ , yes!”

Jonah beamed, nodding for her to get up. “I have a machine in my basement. C’mon,” he said, leading her down there, “wait hold on,” he said, reaching up to her shoulder, “ladybug,”

Amber smiled, pressing a hand against her heart. _Dad._

The two of them belted to their heart's’ content, from one hit wonders of the 90’s, to the ‘trash’ on the radio these days. Their faces hurt from smiling and laughing so much, but they wouldn’t trade that feeling for anything. It was nice to be able to escape from reality for a little while.

* * *

 

“Mini muffin?” Cyrus offered, leaning back against the oak tree. TJ gladly took it, shifting over by him and pressing his back against the tree.

“Did you make these?”

Cyrus scoffed. “No, I got them from the bakery,” he admitted, “but it’s the thought that counts?”

“It is,” TJ agreed, stuffing the whole thing in his mouth, “this is really nice,” he mumbled through chewing.

“Worth the wait?” Cyrus mused, taking his hand.

“Duh,”

Cyrus beamed, grabbing his journal and a pencil, flipping to the next open page and starting to write.

_7/1_

_Today I went on a date with TJ and_

“Weren’t you going to show me something in there last night?” TJ cut in, prompting Cyrus to stop writing.

“Oh,” he mumbled, embarrassed, “it’s stupid,” he muttered, shutting the journal.

“Nothing you could ever write is stupid,” TJ assured him, putting a hand over his.

Cyrus knew he wouldn’t be able to look at that smile without caving. “Okay. So, like, during the summer, I’ve been keeping track of, like, very specific words. But they’re like based on us hanging out, if that makes any sense. I’ve been keeping track of them in here,”

TJ smiled wider than he ever had. “Can I see?” he asked softly, and Cyrus pushed the journal into his hands. He flipped to the back, tracing his finger over Cyrus’ neat handwriting.

“Aga-uh, agatho-” he squinted, trying to pronounce the alphabet soup of letter that was the first word.

“Agathokakological,” Cyrus said seamlessly, peering over at the list of words, “it’s like, someone that’s made up of both good and bad,”

TJ shook his head, almost in disbelief. “That’ me to a ‘T’,” he noted, moving on to the next word, “. . .duende. Looks kinda like dude,”

Cyrus laughed, scooting a little closer to TJ. “It’s like the power of art to move a person. When you were talking about sculptures that day, I couldn’t help but notice,” he mumbled.

TJ smiled wider, if that was even possible at this point. “Nyctophilia?”

“A love of darkness and night. Remember when we went stargazing?”

TJ chuckled, taking out his phone and scrolling through his camera roll until he found the selfie he took of him and Cyrus, with the latter boy being asleep. “I think I remember,”

Cyrus shoved TJ lightly, craning his neck a little to better see the picture. “You goof,”

“You missed the shooting star that night,” TJ informed him, shutting his phone off.

“Oh? What’d you wish for?”

TJ snorted. “Take a wild guess,” he said, squeezing his hand. Cyrus ducked his head, miserably failing at hiding his blush.

“Cingulomania. . .is that some disease?” TJ wondered, to which Cyrus laughed, leaning his head on TJ’s shoulder.

“No, it’s, like, the desire to hold someone in your arms,” he explained, thinking back to the day at the laser tag arena.

“Well in that case,” TJ mumbled, snaking an arm around Cyrus’ back and pulling him close. Cyrus breathed in deeply, inhaling the vague scent of cherry chapstick on TJ’s lips.

“Nepenthe,” he continued down the list.

“Something that can make you forget grief or suffering,” Cyrus supplied, grazing his fingers over TJ’s knuckles.

“That night in the basement? The sleepover?” TJ asked, swallowing hard. He didn’t really want to tread here.

Cyrus nodded, letting out a soft sigh. “That was a nice night,”

 _Not the word I would have used_. “Well. . .yeah, yeah, nice,”

Cyrus furrowed his brows, tilting his head up. “Something the matter?”

TJ shook his head, trying to figure out how to word this as lightly as possible. “After you left in the morning. . .my mom was saying things, like, that I shouldn’t hang out with you because. . .”

“Oh,” Cyrus mumbled, his eyes flitting down to their hands, “sorry,”

“It’s not your fault,” he assured him, “next word,” he said quickly, scanning down the list. Cyrus nodded, his hair brushing ever so lightly against TJ’s jaw.

“Philophobia,”

“Remember that day we met in the park? And we talked about Andi and Amber? You said something about being. . .afraid, I guess, of getting emotionally attached to people,”

TJ nodded, smirking. “I guess you were the one exception,”

“Aw,” Cyrus cooes, motioning for TJ to go on.

“Mam- hold on, uhm, mamiha-”

“Mamihlapinatapai,” Cyrus says with relative ease, only stumbling once, “I’m assuming you remember the day at the Spoon when we. . .”

“. . .stared off?” TJ finished, to which Cyrus nodded, “yeah, I remember that,”

“Mamihlapinatapai.  It’s like a look exchanged between people, and they both want something to happen, but nothing does,” Cyrus explained, meeting TJ’s eyes. They were so close, dangerously close. TJ quickly turned his gaze back to the journal.

“Thantophobia. Lots of phobias,” he notes, running his finger down the spine of the journal.

“That’s from. . .the day we went shopping for Christmas sweaters. The word, it’s like, like a fear of losing someone that you love,” he said softly, and TJ almost didn’t catch it.

TJ leaned his head on top of Cyrus. “Yeah. I never wanna lose you,”

“And you won’t,” Cyrus assured him, “next word?”

“Wonderwall. . .like the Taylor Swift song?” TJ questioned with a grin.

“You _know_ the Taylor Swift song?”

TJ scoffed. “I’m not uncultured. Is that what it’s from?”

Cyrus shook his head. “No, not from that. It means, like, someone that you can’t stop thinking about, no matter how hard you try,”

TJ carded his fingers through the other boy’s hair. “You really are too cute,”

Cyrus put a hand over his face, the heat radiating. “Next word,” he mumbled.

“Naz,”

“That night at the fair, when we were on the ferris wheel. And I was like ‘I’d love you no matter what’,” Cyrus started, “that’s kind of what it is. Knowing that you are loved no matter what,”

“Platonically?”

Cyrus nearly laughed at that. “At the time? Probably not,” he admitted bashfully.

“Anam cara,”

Cyrus beamed. “Soul friend,” he said, “it was from that night at the tree house,”

“I remember that,” TJ murmured, blinking slowly.

“I think that’s the night that I realized how hard I’d fallen for you,”

And if TJ wasn’t blushing before, he sure was now. “You’re such a sap,”

“I do not appreciate the mockery,” Cyrus defended, tapping the journal, “next,”

“Kalon,”

Cyrus’ face was burning, and these words were not helping. “It’s. . .beauty that’s more than skin deep,”

TJ picked his head up off of Cyrus’, bringing a finger under his chin and hooking it up. “You think I’m beautiful?”

“Now that you say it out loud it sounds stupid,” Cyrus whined, reaching for the journal with an eraser, but TJ stopped him.

“No, no! It’s, like, really endearing. I love it,” TJ promised him, taking the eraser and tossing it back in the picnic basket.

Cyrus relaxed, draping an arm across TJ’s chest. “Next word,” he whispered.

TJ squinted at the page. “Some french nonsense that I’m not even going to try and begin to pronounce,”

Cyrus puffed out a breath. “La douleur exquise,” Cyrus supplied, laying the French accent on thick and obnoxious, “that’s like the heartbreaking realization that someone you love is unattainable,”

TJ laughed, throwing his head back so that he tapped the tree behind him. “Clearly that’s a lie,”

Cyrus chuckled; TJ’s laughter was infectious. “I guess so,” he whispered, looking up and immediately getting lost in TJ’s eyes. Shaking himself out of the daze, TJ turned back to the words.

“Quinceanera,”

Cyrus’ face scrunched up, leaning to see the page. “That says querencia,” he pointed out, “it’s. . .well, it’s like a place where you feel most at home. Where you feel like your most authentic self,”

“So, like, wherever you are,” TJ whispered; Cyrus could feel his warm breath on his face, they were so close.

“Next word,” Cyrus murmured, his eyes not once leaving TJ.

“Redemancy,”

“A love returned in full,” Cyrus whispered.

“Hm, I think I have someone in mind,” TJ joked, cracking a smile out of Cyrus. He brings their noses to touch, and TJ has to strain his eyes to see the last one in order to not break contact.

“Basorexia,”

Cyrus smiled softly. “The overwhelming feeling of wanting to kiss someone,”

“Oh, really? Diagnose me with that shit,” TJ laughed, and Cyrus felt like he could melt right then and there.

“Can I. . .you know,”

“Kiss me?” TJ finished, a smug look on his face.

Cyrus nodded sheepishly, unable to maintain eye contact for more than a second. “Yeah. . .that,”

“What’s stopping you?”

Cyrus hesitated, biting at his lips nervously. It’d been a while since he’d been this nervous around TJ, of all people. “I-I don’t know,”

TJ pulled his hands up, holding one of Cyrus’ in both of his. “We don’t have to if you’re not ready,” he promised him. He didn’t want to rush Cyrus into something he wasn’t comfortable with.

Cyrus shook his head, with confidence. “Please, I’ve been ready for this for a while,”

“Me too,”

TJ didn’t move, instead waiting for Cyrus to do something, which he did. He counted all the freckles on his nose before leaning forward and connecting their lips. It was unlike anything he’d felt before; it was like TJ’s lips were air and he couldn’t breathe. TJ felt like all the wind was knocked out of him; his lips were buzzing, and any other sound in the world melted away into nothingness. In retrospect, it was a pretty mediocre kiss, but it was everything in the world to TJ and Cyrus.

“Holy fucking shit,” TJ mumbled after he’d pulled back, taking in a deep breath; it was his first breath after his first kiss.

Cyrus rolled his eyes, punching him lightly. “Way to ruin the moment,”

“You’re blushing,” TJ countered, pinching his cheeks endearingly. Cyrus pouted, shaking his head.

“So are you, Mr. Tomato,” Cyrus joked, sticking his tongue out.

“So what’s today’s word?” TJ asked, tugging Cyrus into his lap and pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

“That _was_ today’s word, dork,”

“Can I add one?” he asked, fishing out the pencil from the basket.

“Sure,”

TJ scrawled down a word at the bottom, trying to make it look as much as Cyrus’ handwriting as he could. When he showed it to Cyrus, the boy put his head in his hands.

_logolepsy: an obsession with words_

“I am _not_ obsessed with words,” Cyrus pouted, his words muffled.

TJ held the journal up above his head, out of Cyrus’ reach. “I beg to differ,” he countered, chuckling lightly.

“. . .fine. I like words,” Cyrus admitted, “happy?”

“Just _like_?” TJ shot back, smirking.

“You talk too much,” Cyrus huffed, cupping TJ’s face and pulling him closer, “round two?”

TJ nodded, and this time it was him who closed the gap. This kiss wasn’t electric like the first; it was safe and familiar, like he’d been here a thousand times before. No other thoughts rattled around in his mind; all he was thinking about was how lucky he was, to be able to share this moment with someone he loved so much.


	17. Saudade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> saudade (n.): missing someone so much that it physically hurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for the wait with this chapter! i've been sick and i tried to get it out as fast as i could

Two weeks. _Two weeks_.

It might as well have been two years, Cyrus assumed. TJ had been on vacation for two weeks (thirteen days to be more exact), and Cyrus had never missed anyone more. He knew that TJ wasn’t gone, per se, but he missed him; he missed running his hands through his hair, holding hands and falling asleep next to him, kissing him until he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

_saudade: missing someone so much that it physically hurts_

To try and distract himself, he hung out with Buffy as much as he could, considering he couldn’t go to Andi.

“You have to talk to her,” Buffy mumbled into the phone.

“What if she hates me? It’s been a long time,” he worried, pacing around his small room.

“Cyrus, Andi loves you. You know she wouldn’t stay mad at you forever. She really cares about you,”

“I hate it when you’re right,” he grumbled, hanging up and grabbing a pair of shoes

* * *

 

It felt oddly chilly outside, considering Cyrus had to rub his biceps furiously as he walked to Andi’s house. The closer he got, it appeared, the harder it was to move his legs forward. It was as if he was being held back by cement.

 _Step_.

Everything was going to be okay, right? Buffy was usually right, so why shouldn’t he believed her now?

 _Step_.

Nope, bad idea, bad idea. Why not just give up now? What’s one less friend.

_Step._

No, he could do this. Things were going to be okay; they were going to sort things out.

He knocked twice, albeit shakily, and waited. And waited. And waited. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe Andi really didn’t want to talk to him and was purposely avoiding him. Or. . .maybe she just wasn’t home. Or maybe-

Before he could finish that thought, the door swung open. And it looked like Andi was almost smiling, but the moment she saw Cyrus, her face fell.

“Hey,” she murmured, staring down at her feet. She dug her toes into the carpet, trying to distract herself.

“Can I come in?”

She nodded weakly, stepping aside for him. Cyrus slipped his shoes off, and she nodded up the stairs, Cyrus following behind her. It felt like he hadn’t been up here in ages. He’d missed having sleepovers with her and Buffy; they had mostly stopped once they’d entered high school because they just didn’t have time anymore.

The moment that they sat on the bed, the words flowed out quickly, as if they were held back by a dam.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he began, “I didn’t mean to be so rude, I’m so sorry, Andi. I just. . .when you were talking about me and TJ, I just thought it was something so outlandish,”

Andi nodded silently, breathing out softly. “Sorry for meddling,”

“You shouldn’t be apologizing, I should. And I’m sorry,” he murmured, putting his hand on Andi’s shoulder. Her lips twitched up into a hesitant smile, the tension in the room easing up a little. She pulled him in for a hug, and there they stayed for a little while.

“Plus you were right,” Cyrus added, an impish grin gracing his face, “about me and TJ,”

Her whole face lit up, clapping her hands in excitement. “Cyrus!”

“Hi,”

“So, how’s it been with you two? Tell me _everything_ ,” she insisted, propping her head up with her elbows, and batting her lashes.

Cyrus shrugged, but the smile on his face spoke for itself. “It’s been great,” he admitted, flopping back onto her bed and staring at the ceiling, “I miss him though. He’s been on vacation for almost two weeks. But he comes back in two days,”

“Are you worried? About. . .him spending time with his mom?”

Cyrus nodded, tracing over the seams of Andi’s bedsheets. “Yeah,” he said, his voice timid and nervous, “I just hope he’s okay,”

“He will be. He’s strong,” she reminded him, placing a hand on his head, “okay, no more sad talk. We should do something fun, you, me, and Buffy. I feel like we haven’t hung out all summer,”

“How about a sleepover, like the kind we used to have in middle school?” Cyrus suggested, “I miss those,”

**the ghc**

**[andi: sleepover today? my house]**

**[buffy: can’t wait, i’ve missed things like this <3]**

“Buffy’s in. So. . .movies and junk food until we pass out?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,”

* * *

 

It was hot. Too hot. There was a reason TJ didn’t like the beach; there was too much sand, the sun was never hidden, and the squacks of seagulls was anything but peaceful. How people could fall asleep, he had no idea. Not even his sunglasses helped him from squinting in order to not be blinded.

Amber seemed to have no problem with the beach; she loved the way the sun lightened her hair, the way the ocean breeze kissed every inch of her skin, the comfort in knowing she could simply lie down and do nothing.

“Do you miss him?” she asked, dragging her fingers through the sand.

Amber really could read his thoughts, couldn’t she. “Yeah,” he mumbled, “a lot. I just wanna go home,” he grumbled, staring off into the distance, where his mom was chatting with a group of ladies.

Amber scooted her chair closer putting a hand on her brother’s arm. “. . .I’m sure she’ll come around, TJ,” she promised, watching as their mother mingled like she was at a party.

“Yeah, well, I’m not so sure,” he huffed, squirming under her touch, “she’s barely said a word to either of us this entire trip. I mean, at least she talks to you a _little_ , but she hasn’t said anything to me,”

Amber forced herself to not be irked by his movement. “Just two more years and then you get to go to college,” she tried, offering a sympathetic smile, “guys like you are gonna be cool in college,”

“Don’t remind me,” he groaned, putting his hands over his face, “Cyrus is going to go to some Ivy League on the other side of the coast, and I’m going to go to some rinky-dink community college ten minutes from here,”

“Hey, don’t say that,” she pressed, pushing her sunglasses further up the bridge of her nose, “you could get a basketball scholarship,”

TJ scoffed, shaking his head at the very idea. Sure, he loved basketball and yeah, he was pretty decent at it, but pretty decent wasn’t going to peak the scouts’ interests. “If I’m lucky. I just don’t want to think about going to college and having to. . .” he trailed, the words unable to come out.

“. . .break up with him?” Amber finished for him.

“Yeah,” he whispered, so softly that Amber nearly didn’t hear him. Ah, the lovely feeling of vulnerability.

Amber felt a little guilty for bringing it up, a gnawing feeling in her stomach. “Hey,” she gave his hand a squeeze, “that’s a while from now. Live in the moment, right? Things are okay now,”

TJ smiled, tilting his head back. “Yeah, things are okay,”

* * *

 

“We’ve already seen Mulan a thousand times,” Cyrus whined, leaning back against the couch and pulling his blanket up to his neck.

“It’s the best Disney movie,” Buffy argued, selecting the movie while ignoring Cyrus’ pleas.

“Hm, I think Beauty and the Beast begs to differ, but whatever,” Andi mumbled, poking Buffy’s side. It was harder now for them all to fit on the couch now that they had grown (now that Buffy and Andi had growth spurts, more specifically), but they didn’t mind being pushed together. It was just like old times; movies, chip crumbs littering the couch cushions, and more blankets than were probably safe.

Cyrus barely paid attention to the movie. He spend most of the time checking his phone for any new texts. Andi and Buffy picked up on this, giving each other knowing looks.

“TJ?” they asked.

Cyrus felt his face burn, tucking his phone in his pocket. “No,” he lied, “not. . .really, at least. He hasn’t texted me,”

Buffy’s face softened, placing a hand on his arm. “I’m sure he’s just busy spending time with his mom and Amber,” she soothed, “he’ll text you when he can,”

“Have you heard from Amber?” Cyrus asked, turning to Andi.

“A little,” she admitted, “she said that their mom is trying to keep them occupied with things to do. She mostly just texts me before bed,”

Cyrus nodded, feeling a bit more relieved. “How are things with you and Marty?”

Buffy smirked, cracking her fingers. “Let’s just say that I haven’t lost an arm wrestle,”

Andi rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “You and only you would say that when someone asks you about your relationship,”

Buffy chuckled, tossing a pillow at her. “Oh, hush, you. You’re just jealous that me and Marty make a cuter couple than you and Amber,”

“I’m not jealous, because that’s completely false,” she countered, crossing her arms.

“I think we’re forgetting the point of this sleepover,” Cyrus mumbled, smiling mischievously, “that _TJ and I_ are the cutest couple,” he insisted, turning up the TV loud enough so that he didn’t hear Andi and Buffy coo over his affection for the other boy.

* * *

 

_“. . .previously on Worst Cooks in America,”_

Jonah grumbled, grabbing a pillow and holding it to his chest. Maybe trying to binge two seasons of the show within two days was a mistake. His eyes burned every time he blinked, he was fairly certain he hadn’t drank water for two days, and he was still in the same clothes.

Then came a knock at the door, and he tossed his pillow aside. His hands ran down his face; he really needed to wash his hair. Slinging his legs over the couch, he managed to get himself up and to the door. And once he opened it, he felt every part of his body jolt awake.

“Walker!” he cried, reaching forward and pulling him into a hug, “God, I missed you so much,” he whispered into the other boy’s shirt, clutching it tightly.

“I missed you too,” the other boy replied, quick to drop his bags and wrap his arms around Jonah, “how was life here?”

Jonah pulled back, shrugging. “Uneventful. Boring without you,” he admitted, taking his bag and ushering him inside, “how was Florida?”

Walker rubbed his head, melting into the couch with a contented sigh. “It was alright. Nice to see relatives gush about how much I’d grown. And meanwhile I’m here like ‘I’m just going to hug this person I don’t know’,” he chuckled, putting his feet up.

“I know that feeling. That’s what Easter is like when my mom hosts it,” he shuddered, “the great Easter of ‘08 has still not left our minds,” he added, “how was the 4th of July down there?”

Walker nearly rolled his eyes, pulling a pillow into his chest, his eyelids drooping down. “Loud. Bright. A little overwhelming. I kinda wish you were there,”

Jonah smirked, taking the boy’s hand. “Only kinda?”

Walker didn’t have the energy to argue with him, so he just tugged him a little closer. “Shh,” he hummed, “I’m tired, I just wanna sleep,”

Jonah shook his head, his hair gently brushing the other. “Fine. But when you wake up, you better tell me more about all the fun you had without me,”

Walker breathed out a laugh, shutting his eyes. “You mean like all the pretty girls I saw?”

Jonah stuck his tongue out in response. “Dork,” he mumbled, and when no response came, he knew Walker was probably asleep.

* * *

 

“I miss you so much Cyrus,” TJ murmured, leaning against the sink. The bright lights made him squint at the other boy on the other side of the screen, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I miss you too,” he whispered, careful to not wake Andi and Buffy, who had fallen asleep recently, “I just wanna give you a hug. How’s the vacation going?”

“I’m really happy it’s almost over,” he admitted softly, “it’s been really. . .awkward,”

Cyrus frowned; he wanted nothing more than to just reach through the screen and plant a soft kiss on TJ’s forehead. Unfortunately, technology hadn’t advanced that far yet. “How’s your mom been?”

“She’s _been_ ignoring me,” he huffed, pouting, “which I guess it better than her saying hurtful things. But I wish she’d just treat me like she used to,”

“I’ll see you really soon, though. And then we’ll get to hang out, just you and me. I love you,”

“Love you too,” he murmured, shutting off the video chat, and slipping his phone into his pocket. It physically hurt him to be away from Cyrus for such a long time, but it was only for another day. He was getting back tomorrow; and the only people that knew were his mom and Amber, obviously, and Leslie. He’d made sure to tell her to not say a work to Cyrus, and he was fairly certain that his plan had worked. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Cyrus’ face.

Crawling out of the bathroom he snuck into the bed with Amber, trying not to shake her awake.

“Talking to Cyrus?” she whispered, turning to face him.

He nodded, tugging the covers up to his neck. “I miss him,”

“You’ll see him tomorrow,” she reminded him, “good night,” she turned onto her other side, tugging the covers a little closer to her.

“Night,”


	18. Retrouvaille

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> retrouvaille (n.): joy in meeting/seeing someone you haven’t seen for a while

“Thank you for flying with us,” a hostess said to TJ on his way out, smiling so hard that he worried her face would split in half. He gave a tired nod in response, and made his way through the small tube towards the airport. Sounds of children squealing, zippers opening, and luggage rolling filled the air.

“Finally, we’re back,” Amber huffed, tugging her luggage along as she caught up to TJ. She never thought she’d be so happy to be back in Shadyside, yet here she was. “Feels good to be home,”

TJ smirked, locating the exit sign and heading towards it. “You have no idea,” he mumbled, shaking his head. As tired as he was, he was never too tired to see Cyrus.

Their mom was close behind them, dragging her luggage along. She looked tired, probably because she was, but more than that, she looked fed up. This vacation was planned to be a happy and enjoyable family experience, but she’d hardly said a word to either of her kids the entire time.

TJ was rushing towards the exit, and Amber had to nearly run to try and keep up with him. The feeling of the warm, summer air against his skin was something he’d missed for the past couple of hours. Being stuck in an airplane was something he’d always hated. Flailing his arms, he tried to hail a taxi, and after much effort, one of them pulled up. He started to load up his stuff in the back, and once Amber and their mom had done the same, they all piled into the car. Their mom took shotgun, so Amber and TJ took the back. The ride was near silent all the way there, save for the soft music leaking out of the radio.

* * *

Once they’d arrived back at their house, their mom payed the driver, grabbed their bags, and they were off into their house. It smelled like home, TJ decided, heaving his bag onto his shoulder.. Taking a deep breath, he started up the stairs and collapsed onto his bed. It felt. . .weirdly not like home. Probably because he’d spent so much time with Cyrus at his house. Peeling off his shirt and tossing it in the hamper, he hopped into the shower, sighing audibly when the water hit him. Airports always made him feel gross, so a shower was a must have.

After that, he changed into something more comfortable, and ruffled through his bag until he found his journal and a spare pencil. Setting himself up on his bed, he began to write.

_7/14_

_I just got back from vacation today, and it feels really nice to be back. There’s a certain comfort in knowing that you are home. I really missed hanging out with Cyrus and my friends, and I can’t wait to see them today. People think I’m coming back tomorrow, but I’m here today so that I can surprise them. The vacation was pretty uneventful, but my mom didn’t really talk to me. I really do hope that she comes around because it would be a shame to not have her in my life just because I’m gay. I get to see Cyrus today. Leslie and I have been planning this little reunion for a while, and I am so excited to see the look on his face._

TJ put his pencil down, smiling. He’d missed Cyrus so much, and not being able to talk to him a lot over the vacation made that feeling all the more intense. Setting the small book aside, he pulled out his phone.

**[Me: i just got home. operation muffin is a go]**

**[leslie goodman: copy that! he has no idea you’re coming!]**

TJ smiled; he really loved Cyrus’ family.

* * *

He didn’t realize how tired he was until he could barely see the Goodman’s house in the distance. His legs felt so much heavier than before, and the lack of sleep from the past few days started to catch up to him. His sprint had turned into a run, which then turned into a jog, which was now a brisk walk. He could feel his lungs ache with each sharp inhale, but he tried to push that feeling aside. In a matter of moments, he’d get to see Cyrus. Get to see his whole face light up with excitement, see the way that his eyes lit up and the way his smile quickly took over his face.

As he approached the house, he headed towards the back door. That was Leslie’s idea to make sure that Cyrus didn’t see him. Sure enough, the door was unlocked, like he lived there. Entering slowly, he gave a quick wave to Leslie on the way in.

“Cyrus is home, right?” he whispered, shutting the door behind him.

She nodded, peering up the stairs. “He’s in his room right now,” she said, her face breaking into a smile, “he’s going to be so excited to see you. You’re all he’s talked about for the past two weeks,”

TJ ducked his head, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. “I’ve missed him too,” he admitted, taking a seat on the couch.

“I’ll call him for you,” she offered, stepping out of the room for a moment, “Cyrus! Can you come into the living room for a moment?”

A muffled ‘one sec’ followed, and Leslie gave TJ a thumbs up, before retreating back into her office. His legs bounced incessantly, excitement bubbling up in every part of his body. He heard footsteps, and he almost couldn’t contain his happiness.

“Did you need something Mo-” he started, freezing once he reached the living room. His heart stopped, the world seemed to tilt on its axes, because this was not right. TJ Kippen was not supposed to be in his living room at this moment. Yet, no matter how many time he blinked his eyes, he didn’t disappear.

TJ could see that he was in shock, so he took it upon himself to stand up and engulf Cyrus in a hug. “I missed you so much,” he whispered into his hair, taking in a deep breath. Slowly, Cyrus found himself wrapping his arms around the other boy.

“You weren’t supposed to get back until tomorrow,” he mumbled into his shirt, mind still on overdrive, “but you’re. . .here?”

TJ shrugged, pulling back a little. “I may or may not have lied,” he admitted, a mischievous grin on his face.

Leslie popped her head in for a moment. “Oh good, you’re down here,” she exclaimed, offering a small smile to TJ.

“Were you in on this?” Cyrus asked incredulously, looking between the both of them.

“I maybe or may not have had some insider information,” she said calmly, giving both of them a pat on the back, “it’s nice to have you back, TJ,” she added, walking back into her office.

Cyrus waited for her to leave the room before turning back to TJ. “You planned this with my _mother_?” he whisper-yelled, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I wanted to surprise you. . .surprise!” he chuckled, taking his hand and dragging him to the couch, “now I’m tired. I just used all my energy,”

Cyrus sprawled his legs on top of TJ’s placing a small kiss on the tip of his nose. “I missed you too. Tell me about your vacation,” he asked, leaning on his shoulder.

TJ shrugged; there wasn’t really that much to tell, come to think of it. “I have some pictures,” he offered, pulling out his phone and swiping through them. Most of them were of the sunsets and all the nature scenes he saw, but a few were of him and Amber.

“You look so nice in this one,” Cyrus stopped him once, pointing at the screen. TJ was smiling, and it looked like he’d been laughing.

TJ smiled, turning his phone off. “Amber was pointing out a rainbow in the distance, and we both just started cracking up,”

Cyrus smiled, tracing his fingers over TJ’s hand. He’d missed the physical contact of their relationship. . .whatever their relationship was.

“We should do something today,” TJ suggested, resting his head on top of Cyrus’.

“Like a date?”

TJ scoffed, smiling. “That’s what boyfriends do, don’t they?”

Cyrus opened his mouth to say something but no sound came out. That was the first time either of them had used that word when describing their relationship. It felt. . .foreign. Not bad, just a little weird.

“. . .boyfriends?” he repeated softly, picking his head up to meet TJ’s eyes. All of a sudden, he looked a little more frightened.

“Shit, sorry, I mean, uh, I mean. . .I kind of hoped that, and well, I thought that since we were, like, you know, I-” he rambled, before Cyrus cut him off with a squeeze of his hand.

“I’d love to go on a date with you,” he murmured, “and. . .be your boyfriend, for that matter,” he added. TJ had never felt so relieved in his life, tugging Cyrus closer and burying his head into his shoulder.

“You’re the best,”

“I know,”

* * *

“Go Buffy! That’s my girl!” Marty crooned, wildly clapping his hands. A few people in the stands, mostly parents, stared at him with bewilderment, but that didn’t stop him from cheering even louder.

“It’s just a practice,” one of the moms mumbled, pulling out her phone and tapping on it a few times.

And maybe it was just a practice to her, or to her daughter. But to Marty, and to Buffy, it was the practice. The practice before the big championship game tomorrow. Buffy had been thinking about it for a week, and she hadn’t been able to sleep well for the past few days. Marty always tried his best to support her in any way that he could.

“Alright, girls, that’s a wrap for today. Take a break, go home, relax, and get a good night’s rest,” their coach was saying, as the girls grabbed their bottles, “just. . .try not to do too much movement. You all deserve a rest,” he reminded them, giving them a quick wave before walking away.

Buffy wiped at the sweat at her hairline, regaining her breath. She sipped her water, coming up the stairs to meet up with Marty. “We’re going to lose,”

He frowned, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t say that. I’ve seen you guys practicing. You’re going to do great,”

Buffy nodded hesitantly, trying to push the idea aside. “Cyrus said that he’d come with signs,” she added, a smile breaking out on her face.

Marty beamed, giving her arm a tap. “See? Things are going to work out for the best. I promise,”

* * *

“Do you like it?” Amber asked hesitantly, holding it out for Andi.

Mouth open, Andi gingerly took the bracelet from her hand. It was made of tiny shells, which Amber had collected while at the beach, and were strung together on a piece of string. Granted, it wasn’t perfect, but it was to Andi.

“I-I love it!” she exclaimed, pulling Amber in for a hug.

Amber shrugged, smiling softly. “I tried to do what you did,” she admitted, handing over a small handful of shells, “for when a few inevitably fall off,” she added, dumping them into Andi’s hand.

Andi smiled, slipping the bracelet on, and sure enough, a few of the shells popped off. But that didn’t matter to her. “Thank you, Amber,”

* * *

Cyrus swung TJ’s hand as they entered the small bakery, finding a seat in the corner of the establishment. Taking their seats, they chatted for a little while before they ordered; a chocolate muffin for Cyrus, and a lemon poppy-seed scone for TJ.

“So, anything _fun_ happen on vacation?” Cyrus asked, thanking the lady who’d just placed their orders down.

TJ shrugged, taking a bite of his scone. “Not much,” he admitted, “my mom basically didn’t talk to me for the entire time. It feels so good to be back,”

Cyrus’ smile faltered, picking at his muffin. “I’m sorry. I wish there was. . .something I could do,”

TJ reached out and put his hand on the other boy’s. “You’re here right now. And that’s more than I could ever ask for,” he said softly, offering a small smile.

Content with his answer, Cyrus dove into another topic of discussion. “So Buffy’s championship game is tomorrow,” he began, popping a piece of the muffin in his mouth, “you’re coming to watch, right?”

TJ quirked a brow, smirking. “How could I miss our third date, Underdog?”

Cyrus grinned at that remark, his smile utterly infectious. “Right, of course not,” he mused, “anyways, I’m so excited for her to play! I haven’t gotten to see her play in, like, forever,”

TJ nods, taking another bite of his scone. “I’m really excited to see her crush it,” he added, making a fist for emphasis, “I know Marty’s been saying things about making signs for her,”

Cyrus paled at that, dropping his muffin. “Oh my gosh, I haven’t done _any_ of that,” he groaned, smacking his forehead, “I told her I was going to make a sign, and I haven’t even started,”

“Hey, relax,” TJ said calmly, breathing slowly with him, “we can go to your house after this and make posters. I’ll help you,”

He lit up at that, finishing the rest of his muffin. “Really? You’d do that for Buffy?”

“Correction. For you and Buffy,” he said with a smile, “but yeah, totally. Sounds like fun,”

Cyrus paused for a moment, fishing out some money from his pockets. “You’re the best, you know that? And I know you’re just gonna brush it off and be like ‘oh no, you’re the best’ but seriously, listen,” he continued, tapping TJ’s hand, “you’re one of the best people. You’ve grown so much from the moment I met you. I’m so. . .so _proud_ of you, TJ,”

TJ listened in awe, not sure what came over Cyrus to say things like this. He felt his eyes brimming with tears, but he didn’t let them fall; he wasn’t about to attract attention to himself, more than he probably already was. “Cyrus,” was all he could muster, before he got out of his chair and scooted onto the couch with the other boy, pulling him in for a hug. And yeah, people were turning around and giving them a few weird looks, but TJ didn’t care.

“I’m proud of you too, you know?” he whispered into his hair, shutting his eyes, “you’ve become such a brave and confident person. That person at the swings that first day? I barely even know who that is anymore, Cy. You’re so. . .you’ve grown so much,”

He could sense that Cyrus was crying, by his shaky breathing, but he was fairly certain that they were happy tears.

“People are probably staring,” Cyrus mumbled, looking up at him with teary eyes.

TJ shrugged, taking out some money from his pocket and placing it on the table. “Who cares,” he whispered, getting up, “let’s give them something to stare at,”

Cyrus flushed red, biting his lip. “You wanna kiss in _here_?” he asked, skeptically.

TJ’s head jerked back a little, quirking his brows. “No, no, I mean like. . .I’ll give you a piggyback ride out of here,” he offered, extending his hand out.

Cyrus giggled, shaking his head lightly. “You’re full of surprises,” he mumbled, coming up behind TJ and attempting to climb onto him. TJ helped out, of course, pulling him up till he was comfortable. People were now _definitely_ staring, but neither of the boys really cared. They walked, well, TJ walked, out of the bakery, giggling and smiling.

“To your house?” TJ asked.

“Onwards and upwards!” Cyrus cried triumphantly, pointing a finger up before bringing his arm back down and wrapping them around TJ’s neck.

* * *

Cyrus frowned at his poster; none of the letters were the right size. He’d started off way too big, and then had to shrink as he went on. John Mulaney was right.

“How’s it going?” TJ asked, curled up a little as he did his own poster.

“Bad,” Cyrus frowned, “I can’t get the letters to be the same size,”

“You mean like this?” TJ asked, showing him his poster. It was as if he’d typed it out and printed it out, it was _that_ good.

Cyrus opened his mouth to say something, but he was just so blown away, that he was silent for a few moments. “How. . .how did you _do_ that?” he sputtered, “how can you get them the same size?”

TJ shrugged, pushing the poster over to Cyrus. “I don’t know. The same way you can color them really well, and I can’t. I’ll write if you color,”

Cyrus smiled in agreement, taking TJ’s poster and grabbing all his colors. He decided to use paint for these ones, to make them stand out a little. As TJ rewrote his poster, he took his phone out and jotted down a word.

_retrouvaille: joy in meeting/seeing someone you haven’t seen for a while_

TJ glanced over at him every once in a while, chuckling. “What?” Cyrus asked, sticking his phone back in his pocket.

“You have paint on your face,” he clarified, taking out his phone and snapping a quick picture, “and that’s my new screensaver,”

“What? No! That’s not fair,” he whined, reaching for TJ’s phone, but he couldn’t grab it out of TJ’s hand.

“You can take a picture of me for yours,” he offered, jokingly, sticking his tongue out. Cyrus smirked, taking his phone out, but he didn’t take a picture just yet.

“You have a little something on your cheek,” he pointed out, and TJ immediately reached for it, trying to wipe whatever it was off.

“Did I get it?”

Cyrus leaned in and planted a kiss on his cheek, snapping a photo of it simultaneously. “Yeah, you got it,” he chuckled, showing him the photo. TJ’s face showed his shock, and if you zoomed in, you could see the start of a blush beginning to form.

“Not fair,” he pouted, crossing his arms.

“Oh, contraire,” Cyrus countered, setting his background to the new photo, “very fair,”

TJ tried not to smile at his boyfriend’s excitement. “I’m only letting you do that because I love you,” he grumbled.

Cyrus grinned, setting his paint aside and taking TJ’s hand. “Yeah, me too,”


	19. Verklempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> verklempt (n.): overcome with emotion

Game day. The energy was contagious, and everyone was pumped to watch Buffy play. Especially Marty.

“Oh, dude, it’s going to be so _great_!” he exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air, “I’m so excited,” he noted, as they walked towards the building, their friends behind them.

“Isn’t it weird that we were all partners for this journalism assignment, and we, like, got together,” Amber pointed out, stealing a quick glance at Andi.

“I think this project, just like, brought us closer,” Jonah piped up, a soft smile on his face.

“I really liked it, like a lot. Definitely want to go into journalism now,” Cyrus confirmed. He couldn’t even imagine dropping the class like he’d previously said.

“Why? So you can write ‘I love TJ’ over and over again and call that an article?” Amber teased, laughing at her own joke.

“Oh, c’mon, you love him too,” Cyrus countered, giving TJ’s hand a squeeze.

“Not as much as I love Andi,” she chuckled, linking arms with her girlfriend.

A chorus of ‘aw’s filled the air, and even the trees seemed to be happy, their leaves dancing in the gentle wind. TJ just rolled his eyes, mumbling something under his breath.

“She’s kidding, she loves you,” Cyrus assured him, “we all do,”

“I know,”

 

* * *

“Let’s go Buffy!” Marty shouted, sans megaphone. Cyrus had offered him one, but after hearing how loud he could really be, he decided that he didn’t need one.

TJ had brought the posters they made. Cyrus’ said ‘YOU CAN’T OUT TUFF THE BUFF’, while TJ’s said ‘SLAYER IS THE BEST PLAYER’. He was really happy with how they turned out, after having TJ write the words.

TJ took a look around. He didn’t recognize anyone there, save for Buffy. He supposed that was what happened when it was a summer team. New friends.

The game had barely started, and Cyrus was already on the edge of his seat. He’d put his sign down after a little while, considering his arms got tired, and reached over to take TJ’s hand. He never thought he’d get to have a simple moment like this. Even surrounded by all these people, it still felt like it was just him and TJ.

“Snacks, anyone? Get your snacks here,” a man shouted, carrying a platter that was strapped around his neck. There was an assortment of pretzels, cotton candy, lemonade, and other things to munch on.

“Yeah, over here!” TJ waved him over, eyeing the cotton candy.

The man stepped over a few people, nearly dropping a container of lemonade on the way there. Scooting through a few pairs of legs, he finally made his way towards TJ and Cyrus. “So what can I get-” he stopped, eyes hardening. Cyrus knitted his brows together, following his gaze. It appeared that he was looking at their hands, but he couldn’t tell.

“-I’m sorry, I can’t,” he shook his head, taking a step back. He looked like he was going to be sick, from what Cyrus could tell.

“Can’t what?” Cyrus asked, shouting over all the cheering.

“You guys are, you know. . .together,” he winced, wrinkling his nose.

“So?” Cyrus cut in, before TJ could even begin to say something. A few other nearby people had turned their heads.

“How can you be out in _public_ like that? It’s gross,” he pointed out. Cyrus could feel TJ shrinking beside him, clearly uncomfortable. He gave his hand a gentle squeeze for reassurance, before turning back towards the snack man.

“You’re being rude and creating a scene,” Cyrus pointed out, “I don’t understand why you feel the need to come over her and bother us,”

“ _You’re_ the one who wanted me to come over,”

“For snacks!” Cyrus cried, shaking his head, “not for a lecture,”

“Well, what I said is true,” he insisted.

That was it; Cyrus had _had_ it. He stood up, still holding TJ’s hand. “No it’s not. You have no idea how hurtful the things you say are. We’re just like everybody else, and I don’t know why that’s so hard for you to see,”

Then there was applause, and not just because someone had made a three-pointer. People were reaching over and patting Cyrus on the back, pointing up at the screens around the arena. Sure enough, Cyrus was on them, and people were freaking out. Most of all Cyrus.

TJ, however, had never felt prouder. He couldn’t believe that Cyrus had stood up for them like that. Scratch that. He knew Cyrus was brave, but he didn’t know he was _this_ brave. He tugged on his hand a little, standing up and cupping his face with his free hand. Boy, he loved him so much. And without a second thought, he leaned forward and pressed their lips together. The cheering from the stadium and from the players made that moment all the more special. The man with the snacks mumbled something under his breath and walked away, people booing him off the stands.

When they pulled away, Cyrus was so giddy he didn’t know what to do with himself. He took a seat, trying to focus back onto the basketball game, which was already well into the first quarter. Buffy’s team was up by a few points, but it was close. A little too close for comfort.

* * *

By the time halftime was over, it was evident that this was going to be a tight game. The teams were tied, much to the dismay of all of Buffy’s friends. Marty was cheering so loud that he was definitely going to lose his voice come tomorrow, but he didn't care. Buffy was playing a great game, and if she was nervous, it sure didn’t show.

“Wait, why do they have to dribble? Why can’t they just run?” Andi muttered, her eyes darting around the court.

“It’s called traveling,” Amber supplied, “it’s against the rules.” She had to thank TJ for that one, always talking her ear off about basketball.

For once, Cyrus knew what was happening in a sport. Between Buffy and TJ, he could point out a good player from a bad one, knew what kind of technique was preferred, and was actually able to call out a bad ref when he saw one.

It felt like the game lasted a few seconds and forever all at the same time. Cyrus blinked, and all of a sudden, it was nearing the end of the fourth quarter. Buffy’s team was down by three points, and time was almost up. One of the girls went for a three-pointed, but someone from the other team shoved her. Miraculously, the ball made it through the basket.

“That’s a _foul_!” Cyrus cried from the stands, standing up with sudden force. TJ took his hand gently, trying to bring him back down to earth.

“They’re giving her the foul shot, relax, Underdog,” he chuckled, tugging him back down. Usually, TJ would jump at an opportunity to call out a ref on a terrible call, but he felt oddly calm. Yes, he wanted Buffy’s team to wind, but he supposed it was having Cyrus by his side that kept his emotions at bay.

The girl who was fouled, Kaitlin, walked up to the foul line, the sweat trickling down her face. Her breath was heavy, and she was exhausted, but she needed to make this. One shot, and they could win. Just one shot.

She dribbled the ball a few times, spinning it in her hand. After a breath of what one could only consider extreme focus, she launched the ball. Things seem to move in slow motion. It was as if a part of a CD was skipped because the next thing Cyrus knew, Buffy was screaming at the top of her lungs, along with the rest of her team. They’d won!

Cyrus turned to TJ, engulfing in a quick hug before bounding down the bleachers, and nearly tripping over people. Marty was the first one down, shoving people out of the way to get to Buffy and pull her into a hug. And maybe when he thought people were not looking he gave her a quick kiss.

“You did so well!” Cyrus squealed, pulling her into a hug.

“Thanks guys,” she beamed proudly, “the team’s going out to celebrate at Lucky’s. You guys wanna come?”

TJ shook his head. “Nah, this is your moment. You go celebrate with the team. We’ll catch up later,” he gave her a small wave, and Cyrus followed him out.

Marty quirked a brow. “I’m coming,” he announced, latching onto Buffy’s hand and following the team.

* * *

The rest of the gang found themselves at the Spoon, all sitting together and enjoying one another’s company. It had been an eventful day, and it was nice to be able to relax.

“I can’t believe we have to go back to school soon,” Jonah mumbled, playing with his napkin.

Amber looked at him funny. “It’s. . .the middle of July, Jonah,”

“I know,” he started, “but it’s just. . .it feels like we’re going to go back so soon. I don’t want summer to end,”

“Me neither,” Cyrus mumbled, peering up at TJ, before pulling out his journal from his pocket. He flipped to the back and copied down the words from his phone.

_verklempt: feeling so overwhelmed with emotions_

“You still keep that?” Andi asked, “I quit after the mandatory week,”

“I loved this assignment,” he noted, shutting the journal, “best thing that’s ever happened to me,”

TJ placed a hand over his chest, gasping dramatically. “How you wound me,”

Cyrus giggled, giving his arm a swat. “Oh shut up, you know I love you,”

“I know,”

* * *

September 1, 1989. Okay no, not really, but Cyrus was listening to Heathers while getting ready in the morning, which coincidentally happened to be September 1. He was bouncing with so much energy he omitted having coffee that morning.

**[teej <33: im outside when you’re ready]**

He smiled so widely at that. TJ had promised to give him rides to school, and honestly that was probably the best part of his day. Maybe even better than the journalism class itself. Hurrying out the door with a muffin in his hand, he awkwardly jogged to TJ’s car.

“Morning,” he greeted, tapping the steering wheel lightly, “how are you?”

Cyrus smiled, setting his bag down in his lap and shutting the door. “I’m so excited,” he squealed, reaching for his buckle.

TJ laughed, signaling to leave the driveway. “Really? You’re happy to go back to school? Summer was, like, the best,”

Cyrus nods, taking a bite of his muffin. “I know, but _journalism_ class, TJ!”

TJ shook his head, backing out of the driveway and heading towards the school. “Yeah, I guess I’m looking forward to that too,”

“You _guess_ ,” he mumbled, staring out the window.

“Okay, but you’re not the one that has a crappy schedule,” TJ countered.

Cyrus shrugged. “But you’ll get to see me at the end of the day,” he pointed out.

TJ smiled, turning into the parking lot. “Yeah, there’s that,” he agreed, shutting off the engine. The two of them grabbed their belongings, and left the car. Cyrus glanced down at their hands, and took TJ’s in his.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, as they paused in front of the doors.

TJ nodded, giving Cyrus’ hand a squeeze. “Of course,”

* * *

Most of the day was a blur, as was the first day of school. It felt like they were being herded around like sheep, and at some point, they reached the last period of the day. Cyrus had no idea how his feet dragged him to Mrs. Lorac’s classroom, but there he was, sitting in his chair with TJ beside him, and all his friends near him. He was _really_ going to love this class.

“Alright, class,” she started, shutting the door, “take out your journals,”

Bags zipped open and people fished through their backpacks, pulling out their respective journals. The teacher walked around, skimming through the students’ journals, before placing them back on their desk. When she got to Cyrus’ and TJ’s, it almost looked like she was smiling at the pictures, and the progression of their story. Again, she placed them on the table, and started to walk back to her desk.

“You’re not going to grade them or collect them?” Cyrus asked.

She took a seat at her desk, propping her head up with her elbows. “I mean I’ll put in a grade that you did it, but the assignment was mostly for you, you know? I’m sure a lot of you had things happen that you didn’t expect because of this. Anyone?”

It was quiet for a moment, everybody waiting for someone else to make the first move. Amber sheepishly rose her hand, and the teacher nodded in her direction.

“I, uh, learned how to make crafts,” she supplied, looking to Andi for a moment, who offered a warm smile.

Jonah put his hand up next. “I came out to my mom,” he mumbled. It was quiet, but people caught on, a few of them applauding him and Walker patting him on the back.

“I got better at face painting,” Walker chuckled.

“I learned some sign language,” a girl piped up, signing as she spoke.

“Good, good!” the teacher said, a small smile on her face, “what about you, TJ? Cyrus?”

TJ smiled, ducking his head a little. “. . .what love is,”

Cue the chorus of ‘aws’. TJ ducked his head a little further, trying to hide his blush. There was so much he could say on what he learned, but he opter for keeping it simple.

“And you, Cyrus?”

“I. . gosh, where do I start,” he chuckled, “I think I learned,” he paused, glancing up at TJ, “how to be a better person. When to step in, when to back off,”

Mrs. Lorac seemed satisfied with his answer. “I’m glad you all got something out of this. Now for your first assignment, you need to report on a problem or issue here at school. It can be big, small, whatever you please. Due to me by the end of the week,”

She went on to explain the rules and expectations, but Cyrus could barely hear her. He was too engulfed in writing down his idea for the project; the school didn’t have a GSA, and Cyrus though that with one, all kids could feel welcomed and supported. Mrs. Lorac gave them the rest of the period to brainstorm what they wanted to write about for their project.

Too soon for Cyrus, the bell rang, signaling the end of the day. Everyone packed up their things, exhausted from the day of activities, and started to file out of the classroom. Cyrus and TJ walked together, but Cyrus stopped at Mrs. Lorac’s desk.

“What do people do with their journals? Since you’re not collecting them,” he asked.

She smiled, happy to answer. “A lot of things. Some keep the journal, some forget, naturally. I’ve seen some pretty cool art projects done with it. A couple people did a time capsule, some try and publish them, but that hasn’t worked out so far,” she chuckled to herself.

Cyrus lit up, a playful smile on his face. “Thanks Mrs. Lorac,” he said, walking out with TJ, who gave her a small wave. He started walking towards TJ’s car, a certain lightness in his step.

“What are you thinking about?” TJ chuckled, tossing his things in the trunk.

“You’ll see,” he said, hopping in the passenger’s seat.

* * *

“Remind me why I’m also getting out of the car at your house?” TJ asked, shutting his door as Cyrus dragged him along. He tugged him into the backyard and stopped all of a sudden, turning to face him.

“I wanna make a time capsule,” he said softly, “like what Mrs. Lorac said. So that years from now, I can look back and smile,”

TJ grinned, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “Alright, let’s do it,”

The two of them went up to Cyrus’ room and tried to find all the things they could to put in their time capsule, the container of which would be an old metal lunch box that Cyrus used to use. He snapped a picture of the words, not wanting to forget them. It was a little bittersweet, having to part with his journal for a while, but he knew that he would thank his past self. Inside, they placed their journals, a few pictures of them, including the one of them at the Christmas store, and a copy of the best muffin recipes ever.

TJ tapped his chin, eyeing the polaroid camera sitting on Cyrus’ desk. “It needs one more thing,” he decided, reaching over and grabbing the camera.

“Really? What?”

“This,” he murmured, leaning forward and planting a kiss on Cyrus’ lips, attempting to snap of a photo of it. It was silly and kind of childish, but hearing Cyrus giggling as he melted into the kiss was all he needed. Pulling back, he felt his cheeks flush, so he tried to focus on the picture that was coming out. Granted, it was a bit blurry, but he thought it was perfect nonetheless. Both boys signed their names on the back with a little heart, and placed it in the little box, shutting it with a click.

“Now we bury it?” TJ assumed, drumming his fingers on the box. Cyrus nodded, and the two of them headed into the backyard.

“I will let _you_ do the shoveling,” Cyrus offered, handing him a shovel.

“Oh, how _kind_ of you,” TJ chuckled, accepting the shovel and glancing around for a place to start digging, “is by that tree okay?” he asked, to which Cyrus nodded. The start of the process was difficult, trying to break through the ground, but from there, it wasn’t that bad. Yes, he was sweating and was breathing a little heavier, but it was totally worth it. Once he thought that he’d gotten deep enough, he let Cyrus place it gently into the hole before he covered it back with dirt, patting it firmly on the back.

“I kind of want to dig it up again,” Cyrus chuckled, pressing his body against TJ’s.

“That’s not the point of this, you know,” he smiled, resting his head on top of Cyrus’.

“Do you think someone’s going to find this someday?” Cyrus wondered aloud.

“I hope so,” he replied softly, shutting his eyes for a moment. Maybe someone would never find their time capsule. Maybe the two of them would be the only ones that know about it, but maybe they’d eventually forget. Maybe none of this would matter in a few years. But right now, it was everything. And that was just okay for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the last chapter before the epilogue, so get ready for that! sorry this took a while to write. thank you all for reading this far! <3


	20. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> love: an intense affection for another person; the deep tenderness, affection, and concern felt for a person with whom one has a relationship with

Candles were on the table, glowing brightly in the late afternoon. Utensils were set out at all the places at the table, and a banner hung from two poles that were in the ground.

_Celebrating Ten Years!_

TJ followed Cyrus into his backyard; it truly hadn’t changed over the years. It was hard to believe it had really been ten years since he’d graduated high school, but here he was, celebrating all the time that had passed. The big celebration was held at the school during homecoming week, but the Goodmans, ever involved in the school’s activities, decided to host a smaller party at their house. It was mostly for Cyrus and his close friends, but friends from each of their respective colleges decided to tag along for the ride.

“Wow, I haven’t been here in, like, forever,” TJ commented, letting Cyrus lead the way through the crowd.

“Hasn’t changed much has it?” he asked, offering a soft smile. That hadn’t changed either. Cyrus still had the same cute smile that he had all through high school and into college.

TJ smiled, giving his hand a squeeze. “Nope,"

 

* * *

“And she’s so cute, except ever since we got her, Piper’s been exceptionally unfriendly,” Andi chuckled, sitting down with Amber and Jonah.

“So how many cats do you have again?” Jonah asked.

“Three,” the girls answered in unison.

“Wow, you really _are_ lesbians,” he noted, the group bursting out into laughter.

Amber and Andi had bought an apartment not too long ago. They didn’t plan on getting any pets, but when they found a box of kittens outside the complex, Andi begged Amber to let her keep them. Amber always says that she ‘hates the rotten little weasels’ but Andi knows that she would actually do anything to protect them.

Both girls ended up going to the same college, unbeknownst to themselves until they revealed their decisions in April.

_“Okay, no matter what happens, things are going to be okay,” Andi had assured her, giving her hand a squeeze._

_Amber had nodded, letting out a slow breath. “You first,”_

_“Okay,” she started, staring down at her feet. All of a sudden this seemed a lot harder than previously thought. “I’ve decided that I’m going to be going to Savannah College of Art and Design,”_

_Amber’s jaw dropped. “Shut up,” she squeaked, “shut up! Are you serious?”_

_Andi opened her mouth to say more but she was immediately cut off by Amber._

_“That’s where I’m going!” she was nearly screaming at this point, other people in the park started to stare at her. And the next thing Andi knew, her feet were off the ground and Amber’s arms were around her._

_Andi couldn’t say anything, she was in complete shock. At one point, she did try to say something along the lines of ‘this is so exciting!’ but ended up just bursting into tears._

They roomed together for the first few years, but then decided to get an apartment together in their junior year. And even after they both graduated, Andi with her degree in graphic design and Amber with her degree in architecture, they stayed in the same apartment. Cats and everything.

“I’m just saying that I don’t want to have to give in to your pouting if you see another stray cat,” Amber warned, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to say no to Andi if she tried.

“Oh please,” Andi gave her a nudge, “so, how are you and Walker?”

Jonah shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “We’re alright. Long distance, you know,”

Jonah and Walker were still together, but since Walker was offered the job to design some stage sets over in New York City, Jonah hasn’t seen him for a few months. Money wasn’t exactly something he could burn to see his boyfriend, but he did whatever he could. They video chatted almost every day, and Walker always sent Jonah some drawings of him every now and then.

“You miss him,” Andi noted, placing her hand on top of his, “but he misses you too. And he loves you a lot,”

Jonah nodded, downing the rest of his drink quickly. “Yeah, I know,”

Before any of them could start crying, Buffy and Marty entered, hand in hand, before she started running towards her friends.

“You _guys_ ,” she drawled, tapping her fingers on the table, “how are you?”

Andi pulled her into a hug; how she’d missed her. “It’s been too long!” she exclaimed, pulling back, “how are you, what’s new?”

Buffy smirked, a few laughs escaping her mouth. She glanced at Marty, who gave her a wink before continuing his conversation with TJ.

“Well,” she sighed dramatically, putting her hand over her chest, “since you asked. . .”

Andi’s jaw dropped, shaking Buffy by her shoulders. “Oh my god, you got engaged?”

Buffy nodded excitedly, which resulted in a lot more hugging and a few tears from Andi. “Oh my gosh, tell me everything! Did he take you to your favorite restaurant? Did he have a speech prepared for you? Did the whole restaurant clap for you guys?”

“Actually,” she hesitated a little, offering a small smile, “I was the one who proposed,”

If Andi was surprised before, she was nearly paralyzed with shock now. “ _You_ proposed?” she squeaked, “that’s. . .actually very like you. Forward. I’m really happy for you guys. Have you started thinking about the wedding?”

Buffy shrugged, glancing over at Marty. “I think we both want something in the fall, but other than that, we haven’t really talked about it,”

“Regardless,” Andi beamed, “I’m so incredibly happy for you both,”

“Hey, Buffy!” Marty called, waving her over to the basketball court that was set up in the driveway.

“Love calls,” she laughed, giving Andi a final hug before heading off with Marty. That left TJ alone, so he wandered over to the bar, getting himself a drink and wandering around the backyard.

“There you are,” Cyrus nudged his shoulder, “I haven’t seen you all night,”

TJ smiled, slinging an arm around Cyrus. “I’ve been catching up with Marty. You know he and Buffy are engaged?”

Cyrus nodded, smiling to himself. “Buffy actually had me help her plan it out, so I knew before even Marty did,” he chuckled, earning a quiet gasp from TJ.

“And you _kept_ this information from me? I feel betrayed,” he swooned, placing a hand on his forehead.

“TJ, duuuude, stop being so cute with him,” someone called out, snickering and holding up a camera.

TJ rolled his eyes, offering a small smile to the camera. “Don’t you drunks have anything better to do than bother us?” he joked, giving the guy with the camera, Aaron, a gentle shove.

“I’m going to go and catch up with Jonah,” Cyrus mumbled, pressing a quick kiss to TJ’s cheek and heading off.

“You guys are the worst,” he said, but he was smiling. His friends from college, Aaron, Wyatt, and Rowan, tagged along to the celebration because they were working on their, as they so delicately put it, ‘gay-ass project’. Basically, they were documenting every moment that they could of Cyrus and TJ.

After senior year of high school. Cyrus ended up going to Stanford to study journalism with a minor in cinematography, while TJ stayed back and went to University of Utah, where he was offered a full time scholarship for playing basketball. They tried to make the distance work, they really did, but one day over video chat, they decided that they needed a break. Just until they were out of college.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, Cyrus really didn’t like Stanford. From the insane amount of work, to not having TJ by his side, it was, in short, a bad experience. After his freshman year, he decided to transfer. And while he would never tell TJ that a part of the decision was because of him, it was. He realized that he didn’t need to go to a fancy college in order to get a good education. Plus, it was going to be nice to be closer to home.

Cyrus had texted TJ that there might be a familiar face on campus and, in short, TJ harassed all his friends in the middle of the night.

_“Get the hell up, assholes,” he flicked on the lights, earning groans and curses from his roommates._

_“TJ, I love you man, but I swear to god if you keep me awake for more than a minute, I will rip your fucking throat out,” Wyatt mumbled, pressing a pillow to his face._

_“But Cyrus is coming here!” TJ crooned, and that seemed to perk at least Rowan up._

_“Isn’t he that kid that you dated in high school? The one you’re always practically drooling over?” he mocked, making kissy faces._

_“Fuck off,” TJ muttered, tossing a pillow at his face, “regardless, I don’t want you assholes messing with him, got it?”_

_“Oh, Cyrus, I missed you so much! I look at pictures of you before I go to sleep!” Aaron wailed dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. TJ flushed red._

_“That’s. . .that’s not-”_

_“Oh, Cyrus! You’re the only thing I talk or think about, which is why I’m failing my econ class,” Wyatt crooned, batting his eyes towards Rowan._

_“Shut up, you know that class is-”_

_“Oh, Cyrus, I love you so much! I have never loved another!” Rowan exclaimed, and the boys doubled over in laughter._

_“I hate you all,” TJ mumbled, flicking the lights off._

The day that Cyrus stepped foot on campus, Aaron, Wyatt, and Rowan made it their mission to find him before TJ did. Considering TJ talked about him all the time, and he had a wall of pictures that was mostly of him and Cyrus, it didn’t take long for them to find the boy.

_“Hey!” Wyatt called, approaching a shorter brunet boy, “are you Cyrus?”_

_He eyed the group suspiciously, furrowing his brows. “I. . .yeah?”_

_“God, you really do look just like how TJ said,” Aaron mumbled, running a hand through his hair._

_Cyrus perked up at the mention of TJ. “TJ? Is he here now? Can I see him? Does he talk about me?”_

_“Wow, the homo is strong with this one,” Rowan commented, “I mean, the homo is strong with all of us too, don’t worry,”_

_Cyrus chuckled; he already felt more at home here than Stanford. “Do you know where he is?”_

_Wyatt nodded. “He has econ right now,” he grinned, “but we can show you around, if you like. You should see our room,” he declared, and the other boys grabbed his hands and started dragging him towards their room._

* * *

_TJ sighed, running a tired hand through his hair. Not the greatest way that test could have gone, but not the worst, by far. He reviewed all the questions on the way up the stairs to his room, unlocking it only to be greeted by a room of darkness._

_“What the hell? Did Rowan burn the lights again?” TJ muttered, feeling around on the wall for the switch._

_“No, asshole,” Rowan snapped._

_When TJ did find the lights, it took him a moment to adjust, but when he did, he had never been happier. Cyrus was standing in the middle of the room, and he looked like he was about to burst with excitement._

_“Underdog!” he exclaimed, rushing towards him and engulfing him in a hug, all the while Aaron was recording from his place on the bed. He didn’t really care if TJ knew._

_“I missed you,” Cyrus whispered into his hair. He was so happy to see him, he felt like he could cry._

_“Reunion of the gays,” Wyatt commented from the side. TJ chose to ignore that remark._

_“How long are you here for?” TJ asked, finally setting him down. Wyatt was cracking up behind the camera, and TJ shot him a look._

_“Oh, did I forget to tell you?” Cyrus teased, a hint of flirtiness in his tone, “I transferred here,”_

_Error 404: TJ has stopped working. “Wait, what? Why?”_

_He shrugged. “I just. . .Stanford was great don’t get me wrong, but I just. . .I missed being here. Closer to home. Plus, I didn’t like all the stress of an ‘ivy school’. I don’t need to go to a fancy school to get my degree,”_

_TJ grinned so wide he felt like his face was going to split. “Do you have everything you need? A room and bed and all that?”_

_Wyatt rolled his eyes. “Wow TJ, you’re right. We don’t have an extra bed in here. Guess he’ll have to share yours,”_

_TJ flushed a deep shade of red, shooting him a glare. “That’s not what I meant,” he said through gritted teeth, before turning to Cyrus with a smile._

_“Yeah, I’m all set. But. . .maybe we can catch up?” Cyrus asked, a hopeful tone in his words._

_TJ lit up immediately. “Yes! There’s actually a really nice coffee shop downtown, if you wanna go tonight?”_

_Cyrus nodded, giving his hand a squeeze. “It’s a date,” he said, before bouncing out of the room in order to go get settled in._

_TJ watched him leave before turning to his roommates. “I fucking swear if you make any more jokes I’ll kill you guys,”_

_Rowan laughed, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “Note taken. But dude, you got a date with him!”_

_“Maybe now we won’t have to keep listening to you talk about him all the time,” Wyatt mumbled, earning a high five from Aaron, who was trying to balance the camera._

_“I don’t talk about him all the time,” TJ countered, crossing his arms._

_All the boys looked at him. “Bet,” they said simultaneously._

_TJ huffed, kicking his shoes off. “All I’m saying is that he’s not the only thing I talk about,”_

_Wyatt scoffed. “You literally woke us up in the middle of the night the other day in order to tell us that he was coming to campus,”_

_TJ bit his lip, trying not to give in to their antics. “Whatever. I need to study for econ,”_

_“I’m shocked,” Wyatt mumbled, “you were probably thinking about Cyrus,”_

_TJ turned around. “For your information I was focusing very hard. It was really hard,”_

_“That’s what she said,” Wyatt hollered, earning a high five from Rowan._

_“Fuck you, all of you,” TJ grunted, pulling out papers from his folder._

_“You wish,”_

_“I hate you guys,”_

* * *

_A week after their first date, TJ’s roommates were at least happy that they didn’t have to listen to the same stories about Cyrus in high school._

_“So, TJ,” Aaron, started, bringing up the camera, “how does it feel to be dating the one and only Cyrus Goodman?”_

_TJ chuckled, nudging the camera a little. “Well since you asked, I’ll tell you,” he played along, “it’s great. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy since we dated in high school,”_

_Rowan joined in from his bed, looking up from his work. “Mr. Kippen, any juicy details you’d like to share with our viewers?”_

_TJ hesitated a little, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, black velvet box. Aaron nearly dropped the camera, and Wyatt was just saying ‘holy fucking shit’ over and over again._

_TJ opened up the box, revealing a small ring inside and he showed it to the camera. “Got it a week after we started dating,” he said with a smile, putting it back in his pocket._

_“This is some Jim Halpert level shit, Kippen,” Wyatt scoffed, shaking his head, “but maybe now you’ll finally lock him down and stop complaining to us every time he looks at another boy,”_

_“I am not that jealous,” TJ insisted, pushing the camera aside._

_“Right, okay,” Wyatt mumbled, turning back to his work._

* * *

He never knew when he wanted to propose; all he knew was that he wanted to do it at some point. He’d know when the right time was.

“-and _I_ was the one that proposed!” he head Buffy say for the thousandth time that night, but he smiled anyways. He really was happy for her and Marty; they completed each other like pieces of a puzzle.

“TJ, wave to the camera,” Aaron cooed, coming up beside him.

He instead decided to flip them off, smirking. “When are you asshats gonna leave me alone,” he wondered aloud.

“That depends, when are you going to get your head out of your ass and propose?” Wyatt countered, a tiny grin poking at his lips.

“Hey TJ!” Cyrus called his name, frantically waving him over from where he was by the tree.

“Duty calls,” TJ muttered, finishing off the rest of his soda and heading off to where Cyrus was. He was hunched over looking at something that looked like it was a hundred years old.

“Norman was digging holes for the poles to hang up the sign,” Leslie explained, “and he came across this,”

Cyrus was bouncing on his toes, he was so excited. “Don’t you remember? It’s the time capsule that we buried back in high school!”

All the memories flooded back, as Leslie excused herself to go tend to some of the other guests. He remembered the day they buried it, but came up a little short on what’s inside. “Well, open it!”

Cyrus hesitated over the hinges. “Right now?”

“When else are we going to get the chance?” TJ asked, giving him a knowing look, and that was all it took for Cyrus to unlock the hinges and open it up slowly. He pulled out a piece of paper and unfolded it, nearly laughing when he showed it to TJ.

“Best muffin recipe ever,” TJ read, skimming over the ingredients, “chocolate chocolate chip muffin? Lies. The best is-”

“-blueberry macadamia,” Cyrus finished for him, folding up the paper again and setting it down. He pulled out a photo of the two of them, decked out in Christmas gear.

“Remember when Amber framed that?” TJ asked, bumping his shoulder.

Cyrus nodded. “How could I forget,” he chuckled, fishing out a bunch more pictures from the container. They looked like children, but then again, they _were_ children. TJ’s hairstyle hadn’t changed, and neither had Cyrus’ smile. They were just a little bit older now, but things were mostly the same.

Cyrus then pulled out his journal and nearly laughed when he flipped through the entries. “Wow, my handwriting was so much worse in high school,” he chuckled, “then again, I guess I write a lot more now,”

TJ took his out of the box as well, rereading through the entries. Even in high school, he felt the same way about Cyrus as he did now. “Do you remember that list of words you wrote?”

Cyrus didn’t even nod, flipping to the back of his journal instead. And sure enough the list of words is there. He had a picture of it, but it got so cluttered in his camera roll, which was filled with pictures from vacations and assignments he’d sent to other classmates.

TJ read over a few of them, only being able to remember a handful, but that didn’t matter. He missed how close they were in high school, and after a while, they were finally back at that stage again. And he loved it.

Cyrus read over the words a few more times before he shut the journal, placing all the items back in the box. “Ah, memories,” he chuckled, pushing the box into TJ’s hand, “I’ll be back,” he said, getting up and heading into the house.

TJ smiled, shifting things around in the box in order to fit his journal in there. When he did so, a small polaroid corner poked out from underneath all the other photos. Digging it up from the bottom of the box, he thought he was going to cry when he saw it. It was the picture that they’d taken the day they’d made the time capsule. TJ remembered how surprised Cyrus had been when he kissed him, and even though the photo was a little blurry, it was by far his favorite. He flipped it over to the back, and saw both of their names on there, even with little hearts.

“Teeeeejaaay, my man,” Aaron slurred, wobbling over to the tree, “how goes it in the Cyrus department?”

TJ rolled his eyes, standing up and trying to steady the boy in front of him. “You’re drunk as hell, man,” he informed him, handing off the camera to Rowan, who at least _looked_ less drunk.

“No I’m _not_ ,” he laughed, wiping tears from his eyes, “whatcha got there?” he asked, poking the picture in his hand.

“Oh, uh, Cyrus and I were looking through a time capsule we buried in high school,” he said lamely, giving the camera finger guns.

“Could you guys _be_ any more romantic?” Rowan chuckled, shaking his head, “dude. . .it’s a sign,”

“For what?” TJ groaned, knowing the answer.

“For-”

“-what the hell is up, dicks,” Wyatt slurred, stumbling over to the boys with two beers in his hands.

“Okay, no, enough of that,” TJ said, swiftly taking the alcohol out of his hands and setting the bottles down, “everyone hates when you’re drunk because you’re _insanely_ loud and rude, so ease up on that, okay?”

Wyatt pouted like a child, crossing his arms. “You’re not my _mom_ ,” he mumbled, tugging out a chair and taking a seat in it, “what are you talking about anyways?”

“We were saying that TJ needs to propose tonight,” Rowan supplied clearly, ever the sober one.

Wyatt lit up, clapping his hands together and laughing so hard he started coughing. “Yes, dude! Love is in the air, and there are. . .two Rowans,” he fumbled with his words, reaching his hands out.

“Alright, let’s get you some water,” Rowan muttered, shaking his head and shutting the camera off, “but seriously, think about it, TJ,” he said, before dragging Wyatt towards the cooler of water.

Aaron was leaning against the tree, looking almost deep in thought. “What do you think, Aaron?”

He shut his eyes, and said, very sagely, “Do you think it’s called sand between it’s in between the sea and the land?”

TJ blinks a few times, shaking his head. “No, dumbass, about the proposal,”

“Oh, uh, go for it?” he shrugs, “he obviously loves you a lot, like, full homo. So then you guys can be homo squared,”

TJ sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Gee, thanks, man, that really helped,” he mumbled, stuffing the photo in his pocket and leaning back against the tree. He saw Cyrus heading out of the house, and decided to go join up with him. Aaron was still hanging around him, trying to handle the camera without dropping it.

He took a seat down at the table, chatting with Jonah a little bit while he wanted for some of the noise to die down a little. At some point, he was ready to stand up and clink his fork against his glass, but Leslie beat him to it.

“Alright everyone!” her voice echoed through the microphone, “we’re going to be playing some music, so let’s all get up and dance!” she set the microphone down, and wandered over to the speaker, connecting her phone with it, and selecting a playlist of songs that were popular when the kids were in high school. First one up was Shut Up and Dance by Walk the Moon.

“Oh, I _love_ this song!” Cyrus exclaimed, dragging TJ towards the open section of the yard where the rest of his friends were dancing. They screamed along to the lyrics, bumping and jostling one another in a vague attempt to dance. Wyatt, who had returned after downing a bottle of water, was finally able to not see double, but each time he moved he felt like he was going to be sick, so Aaron and Rowan put him on camera duty. He pulled up a chair and tried to balance the camera.

After a few other songs that were upbeat and lively, the song shifted to an Ed Sheeran song, earning a few groans from the crowd.

“Ed Sheeran this, Ed Sheeran that,” Jonah muttered, walking over to get a drink for himself.

Cyrus took TJ’s hand, tugging him a little closer. And in that moment, it was like TJ was back in high school at prom, placing his hands on the other boy’s waist and staying side to side. Cyrus smile was so endearing, but he couldn’t seem to focus on that warming feeling his smile always gave him. All that he could think about was the storm of butterflies in his stomach, and all the snickering of his friends who were giving him weird looks.

“TJ?” Cyrus broke him out of his daze, “you okay?”

“Hm?” he hummed, blinking a few times, “oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m just. . .thinking,” he mumbled. It wasn’t a complete lie, at least.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Cyrus offered, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

TJ didn’t say anything for a moment, glancing over at Wyatt, who gave him a thumbs up. “Ah, one sec,” he rushed out, heading towards the phone that controlled the music and selecting another song to play.

“Owl City, really TJ?” Amber groaned, shaking her head in disbelief, “you’re stuck at sixteen, I swear,”

TJ ignored her remarks, making his way back to Cyrus. “Do you remember when we went stargazing in high school? And. . .and they played this song?”

Cyrus nodded, albeit confused. “Yeah, you really liked that song,” he noted, taking TJ’s hand in his.

“I remember I could barely look up at the stars. You were lying down beside me and I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. Because none of the stars in the sky could even compare to you,” he admitted, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Aww, that’s cute!” Aaron shouted from the table, earning a glare from TJ.

Cyrus laughed shyly, ducking his head to hide his growing blush. “Aw, TJ, that’s really sweet,”

His nerves were too strong for him to smile at the moment, taking a step closer to Cyrus. A couple people had glanced over at them, some of them even halting dancing. “Ever since we started dating, you’ve been my stars, my moon, my everything, and even before then,”

A chorus of aws filled the air, as more people turned their gaze towards TJ and Cyrus.

“Oh my god, this idiot’s really going to do it,” Amber chuckled, excitement bubbling up inside of her.

Cyrus thought his cheeks were going to burst from smiling so hard. “I. . .that’s, like, really sweet,” he mumbled, glancing around the crowd.

“And I, uh,” he stammered, pausing. He could very well back out of this right now, things could stay the same. Things could stay comfortable and safe and under control, like they’d been for years. He tried to concentrate, absentmindedly placing his free hand in his pocket, and clutching the box. He could feel the smooth polaroid picture in there too, and he began to calm down, trying to refocus his thoughts.

“And I know I’m not the best with words, that’s your department,” he chuckled lightly, “but, I can try,”

Cyrus raised his brows slightly, the smile never leaving his face. “Wait what’s happening,” he chuckled, looking around for some sort of hint. TJ took a deep breath, and Wyatt started walking towards where everyone was, attempting to appear more sober than he actually was.

“I know I tell you all the time that I love you, but I truly don’t think I’ve ever felt like _this_ about anybody, ever. I don’t even think I can put it into words, a testament to what I said earlier,” he chuckled, and a few people around him joined in with laughter, “…but, god, for lack of better words, you’re everything. Even when you think that what you’re doing isn’t enough, it is. It always is. Everything you’ve done for me and for so many other people is more than enough…it’s time for _me_ to do something for _you_ ,”

Now Cyrus looked more confused than ever. He glanced around at his friends, who all looked like they know something he didn’t. “What are you doing?” he asked softly, a gentle smile still on his face.

There was no backing out now. Rowan came up from behind and gave him a quick pat on the back before scurrying away. TJ hesitantly pulled the box out of his pocket, fumbling with it a little as he tried to open it.

“Oh my god, what are you doing?” Cyrus squeaked, tears brimming in his eyes.

TJ chuckled weakly, kneeling down. “Doing something for you. . .for us,” he said, his voice threatening to break. The moment was filled with tension and affection, so much so that even Wyatt didn’t dare ruin it with some sort of noise. Cyrus was crying, and people around him were also wiping tears away.

“Cyrus Goodman,” TJ started, cracking open the box to reveal the ring, “will you do me the honor, and biggest favor of my life, of becoming my. . .husband?” he asked, offering a gentle smile. The kind that he reserved only for Cyrus.

Cyrus opened his mouth to say something, but nothing coherent came out; he was so speechless that for once, all the words that he could usually think of with ease, all left his mind. He nodded vigorously, taking a step towards TJ and letting him slide the ring on. It was simple, but beautiful; a simple silver band with a moon and a few stars ingrained in it. People all around were cheering, Wyatt loudest of all, who was so excited that he grabbed Rowan and planted a kiss firmly on his cheek.

“You’re so drunk,” Rowan mumbled trying to shake the blush on his cheeks.

“Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re cute,” Wyatt mumbled, his words connected through slurs.

Cyrus threw his arms around TJ, never wanting to let go. TJ laughed lightly, carding his fingers through the other boy’s hair. “You okay?”

Cyrus nodded, peeking his head up to see him. “Yes, yes, oh my god, I love you,” he blurted out, the words spilling out quickly.

TJ grinned, pressing his forehead against Cyrus’. “I love you too,” he said softly, leaning forward and capturing his lips in a kiss. His first with his fiance. He couldn’t believe he got to use that word now.

And maybe later when Rowan, Aaron, and Wyatt all showed the couple their ‘documentary’ of their relationship, TJ was grateful that they had bugged him all those times about Cyrus. Because it ended up being one of the best things he’d seen. From the nights where he was so drunk all he could say was ‘Cyrus’ over and over again, to the time he’d first shown them the ring, it was beautiful. TJ made a mental note to thank his friends later, after they’d finished watching it. For now, he was perfectly content with sitting on the couch, Cyrus by his side, and a ring on his finger.

Wyatt and Rowan were howling with laughter when they got to rewatch the proposal, even though it had literally just happened.

“You guys are so drunk,” TJ noted, shaking his head. He stuck his hand in his pocket, and felt the picture in there, smiling to himself. He reached over and grabbed a pen off of the table and took the picture out of his pocket, scribbling something on the back and handing it to Cyrus.

_love: being with you until the end of time_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to say a huge thank you to everyone who read, left kudos, and commented. I cannot believe the amount of people that liked this, and I am so grateful for all of you. Writing CD has been such a fun time. Thank you fro coming along for the ride. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'll be updating (hopefully) every week, but for the latest updates on how things are going, you can follow my tumblr @you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus !


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